Masters of Manipulation: Part Two
by Nerys
Summary: A new start, a new beginning; but do people really change? Having won everything there was to win, Harry made his choice. Now, the entire world will have to deal with that choice. HJG/TMR
1. Prologue

**Spoilers/warnings: **All Harry Potter books, including Deathly Hallows. Story takes place after DH and is a continuation of my first story Masters of Manipulation. DH compliant, EWE. Story will contain: character deaths, violence, sexual situations, coarse language. Rated M.

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's note: **As I already explained in my profile, I took part two down after losing every plotpoint and draft I made with the crash of my laptop. I just had so many knots to tie that I couldn't do it by heart anymore. However, after receiving countless emails and PMs, and 'cause the story kept nagging at me in the back of my mind, I decided to rewrite MOM2. Rewriting this story also gives me the opportunity to change what I didn't like about the first draft and keep the bits I did like. I will take your reviews at heart and incorporate the concrit where I can. I hope you will enjoy reading about Vishna, Vlad, Bárthory, Rose, and everyone else again. I know I missed them. On with the temporal mess, again. Head-desk.

I want to thank everyone who read and reviewed MOM2 before, and hopefully, you will like it even better this time around.

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**Masters of Manipulation: Part Two**

**Prologue: The Oncoming Storm**

It was a beautiful, sunny day on his sixty-ninth birthday. July 31st 2050 came in the midst of an unenglish dry heatwave with temperatures above thirty degrees Celsius for weeks now. A nice cooling breeze seemingly brushed his clothing and as he closed his eyes he could almost imagine being outdoors. Harry remembered being out on the patio with his wife Ginny and his three children again. Everybody was laughing and having a good time, because Ron had given a demonstration of the latest Weasley products. The wind felt comforting, like he was finally home and he wanted to remain in that state of bliss; but Harry knew he lay on the floor in the Department of Mysteries and that breeze was a signal of something far more ominous than mere wind. She was coming and he was stuck here, unable to move a muscle.

He hoped she would hurry up and finish him off already, and he envisioned bitterly what his tombstone would say, 'Here lies the great Harry James Potter, utter fool and moron.'

A blinding flash caused him to close his eyes once more. A crash followed when the door, he bolted, got thrown off its hinges. Everything was lost. He knew it was the end when the footsteps approached him.

'Potter?' a concerned, male voice said.

Surprised, Harry opened his eyes to see a pair of dark ones stare straight at him. 'Riddle? I thought you were dead?' Harry whispered.

'Eh, what can I say … been there, done that, didn't take my fancy. What are you doing here on the ground? This really is not a good time to take a nap.'

Tom knelt down and tried hoisting the now chuckling Harry up. 'Leave me,' said Harry in a hoarse voice.

'Oh, please, spare me the Gryffindor heroics. You know how much patience I have with those,' Tom said, annoyed.

'No, you're missing the point. You need to go … beyond.'

'Well, I am trying to avoid going beyond, Potter, _if _you don't mind.'

'Behind the veil … four pages … you need to …,' and Harry pointed toward the dais behind him where an ancient stone archway stood as everything turned black upon him.

'Harry! Harry!' yelled Hermione.

'It was her voice, wasn't it? It couldn't be,' Harry thought, confused. But someone was also shaking him rather persistently. 'Knock it off,' he muttered, and he was certain he saw a telltale silver flash.

'Potter, wake up. She is coming,' said Tom, and he glanced at the door apprehensively.

'The books … Tracker … behind the veil … the power lies. Hurry,' muttered Harry.

Tom frowned, when…

'Crack.'

She was there. She Apparated right in from of them. The breeze, that followed her around, brushed her brown, bushy, long hair and her black robes billowed in the wind. But Harry only had eyes for her right hand, where her wand rested. She had it raised and pointed it firmly to the both of them. It was a familiar one, that wand. He had held it in his hand once upon a time, but now, he was no longer its Master and the Elder Wand was most definitely hers.

'Well, how touching,' he heard her say mockingly, and she tilted her head slightly at the endearing visual before her. 'My two favourite men are going to die together.'

A jet of green left her wand. Tom, unceremoniously, dropped Harry and swirled out of the way of the Killing Curse. It impacted on one of the stone benches and the bricks scattered around everywhere. For a second Tom seemed to weigh his options, glancing at the wand in his hand. But when she whipped her wand around to take another shot at him, Tom grimaced, took one last look at Harry, mumbled something about crazy Gryffindoric ideas, and dove through the veil before the next curse had a chance to hit him.

Harry had never felt so relieved in his entire life.

A snort came out of her mouth at observing this strange action of known death-phobic Tom Marvolo Riddle. It drew Harry's attention back to her, and alas for Harry, hers to him. An amused smirk plastered all over her familiar features as she observed his immobility on the ground.

'Thought I'd save you for last, Harry,' she explained rather mockingly. 'No hard feelings, but we all know he was the bigger threat to me. Any famous last words for posterity to marvel upon?'

Harry just stared at her. He still couldn't quite believe this was happening. He should have seen it coming, he should have.

'No? How disappointing.' She pointed her wand and casually repeated, 'Avada Kedavra.'

As Harry's final breath left his mouth, a cackling female laugh filled the Death Chamber alongside with an unusual dash of silver lighting.

'Harry! Harry! Wake up!'

Harry opened his eyes and stared straight into a pair of brown eyes, similar to the ones that had just killed him. It was unbelievably unnerving.

Hermione watched him worriedly. 'You were screaming. I thought I'd wake you from whatever nightmare you were having,' she said apologetically. 'I am off to see McGonagall. You have an appointment at the Auror Office at nine, so you better get up too.'

Harry sat up straight and checked out his body quickly with his hands. Every limb was still intact and functioning, but his pyjamas were soaking wet and he felt like he was coming down with a flu of some kind. His head pounded severely. That had to have been the worst nightmare he ever had, and in his case, that was saying something. It had felt so real. He was sincerely troubled by this dream or whatever the hell it was.

'What date is it?' he asked Hermione, confused.

'It is May fourth 1998. You just vanquished the Dark Lord and brought him back to life only days ago. Don't tell me you forgot all about that?' Hermione said, while looking at him like he was the most pitiable creature of mankind for doing something that insane. 'Oh, and just so you know, your _"house-guest"_ is already up and running about … As is his new buddy, Ron,' she added sarcastically.

Hary closed his eyes and groaned.

Hermione slapped him on the back of his already pounding head. 'Since you caused this whole situation– '

'Since _I_ caused it, _I_?' Harry objected.

'Since you caused it,' Hermione continued, folding her arms over each other, 'I think you better get out of bed and play referee before they kill each other, because I most certainly am through wasting my time on splitting up those two.'

Harry's counterargument was silenced by a stern glare that would have made McGonagall proud.

'You got him here; now deal with it,' she stated; but when she opened the bedroom door to leave, the heated voices from downstairs flooded in. 'Annoying, overbearing, jealous pricks,' Hermione mumbled on her way out.

'The door –,' Harry tried, futile.

Harry groaned once more at the concept of having to deal with another day of pointless bickering between Ron Weasley and Tom Riddle; and as he got out of bed to shut the door and eliminate the sounds that came through it, his nightmare was slowly beginning to fade in the distance.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's note: **I'd like to thank everyone who read and reviewed the prologue (for some of you it's the second time around, so I feel much honoured): SpeedDemon315; LeSinner; Ali-lue; Agent Twinkle Toes; GoldenTresses91; RedPhoenix23; Sarahr85; OogaMunuckTiwi; BlueSkyHeaven; Ankoku Dezaia; Meeshell72; VTM Potter Crazy; Tommy14; Acceptedmisconceptions; Blindfaithoperadiva, and Medusaasaphoenix.

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**Masters of Manipulation: part 2**

**Chapter one**

Hermione's meeting with Professor McGonagall did not go as she planned it. Hermione asked Minerva to enrol her in Ginny's year, so she could finish her education and get her diploma next year. But McGonagall had blatantly refused. She told Hermione that this year's N.E.W.T.'s were going to proceed without delay and that she could take them together with her old classmates. Completely panicking over the prospect of having to take exams this year, Hermione started screaming at her former friend.

The paintings of the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses all woke up from her angry shouts. Snape watched her outburst with disdain spread all over his greasy features, while Dumbledore merely chuckled. Dippet looked at his top of the line Slytherin student with a dumbfounded, astonished expression on his face; and Phineas merely sighed, while complaining to Snape about the lack of respect in students these days.

'Did you know she even nicked my painting from the wall of my ancestral home?' said Phineas. 'My painting!'

Hermione ignored the paintings and told the Headmistress she was insane to think she could take those exams now. She said to the smiling Minerva that she missed months and months of school and was by no means qualified to take any exam this year whatsoever. She told her that she needed to take the classes first and study; but Headmistress Minerva McGonagall snorted and then stated that she felt Hermione was more than ready, and that she wasn't going to allow her to do her seventh year over again next year.

'You'll manage just fine. I know you – you can do this easily; try to breathe and relax,' Minerva said grinning, and she not so gently coaxed Hermione out of her office by pushing the Portkey to the Burrow back in her hands.

So, Hermione arrived at Twelve Grimmauld Place in utter distress, carrying every book she found in Diagon Alley, because she only had two more weeks to study before her first exam started. Harry, who opened the door, saw the humongous stack enter before Hermione did and he eyed her questionably. 'What are you doing with all those books?'

'McGonagall is making me take my N.E.W.T.'s this year. This year! I need to study. I am way behind on all the others of our year. She has lost it completely, Harry. I can't possibly do those tests now. I don't know anything,' Hermione ranted anxiously, while waving her wand behind her and allowing another pile of books to enter the house.

It was a good thing she didn't see Harry roll his eyes to the ceiling or he would have got an earful from her. Another large pile hovered indoors. 'Hermione, just how many books have you bought?' said Harry, his mouth slightly ajar. 'You only have two weeks to read them, you know.'

'I know – I know; you don't have to remind me. I can't even remember the stuff we've already done last year. And I couldn't find MacShearon's Advanced Arithmancy either. I have to start reading straight away,' Hermione squeaked incomprehensible, while she waved her wand around to let the last pile enter.

Behind her back, Tom Riddle leaned against the kitchen doorway, watching the hovering books with a smirk on his face. For a moment, he and Harry shared a glance of understanding, while Hermione was unsuccessfully trying to recite the twelve uses of dragon's blood. 'You see, I can't even remember the basics. I need to reread everything,' she panicked.

'Starting a library, Granger?' said Riddle calmly, finally putting his two cents into the conversation. And he nicked a book from one of the piles and started flipping through the leaves.

'Get your own copy, Riddle,' Hermione snapped, 'I need that one.' And she snatched the book back.

'Yes, there is no doubt in my mind that you need it more than I do. However, you can't possibly read them all at once. And I sincerely doubt those books will prove sufficient in clearing up your obvious debilitating magical capabilities. Perhaps a nice little copy quill will help to get you through those exams?' he teasingly stated.

He ducked just in time to avoid a collision between his head and one of the more solid and heavier volumes. 'Ah! Thanks,' he cheerfully countered, and he left the hallway with the book Hermione just threw at him tucked underneath his armpit.

So, Hermione spent the next two weeks in Twelve Grimmauld Place studying, or as Tom and Harry called it, driving everyone around her crazy by reciting everything from every textbook she could find. After some time they both fled the area, whenever they saw her coming around the corner with her nose buried in another book and that overworked, anxious expression on her face. Ron, on the other hand, had been more than accommodating. Ron had quizzed her on all the topics, had helped her by finding old exam questions, and he had even promised to look for the Arithmancy textbook she had been unable in obtaining. She hoped he would have got it today, because it was getting awfully close to date. She was on her way downstairs when she heard arguing in the hallway, and she curiously peeked down over the railing.

'This isn't helping her, Ron,' Harry said angrily. 'You need to bring that book back.'

'Hermione can pretty well decide for her own if she needs this book,' Ron said stubbornly. 'Just because you got accepted into the Auror Academy without having taken any exams whatsoever, doesn't mean Hermione should flunk her N.E.W.T.'s.'

'Oh, she isn't going to fail those exams. You know that just as well as I do. She needs to relax and take it easy, Ron. It is her third year all over again. She is going mental over the books she already has here. She can't possibly read that one as well, before the first test arrives come Monday. And you're not helping.'

'She asked me for it and I am giving them to her,' Ron stated determined, and he folded his arms over each other. Hermione felt really proud of him in that moment.

'You're only doing this to make yourself look good in her eyes. This has nothing to do with helping Hermione. You're just trying to outshine Riddle here.' Harry said, irritated.

And all feelings of pride flew out the window when Ron responded to Harry's statement, providing proof of Harry's point.

'Hermione is not interested in that foul, evil, no good git,' hissed Ron.

'Well, if she isn't, then I suppose there is no need for you to hand her that book,' Harry said triumphantly, and he held out his hand to accept the book from Ron.

However, Ron's response got smothered when the living room door opened and the foul, evil, no good git entered the hall. Tom took one look at the book in Ron's hand and snorted. 'Just what the doctor ordered, another book,' Riddle sarcastically stated, before moving into the kitchen to get another cup of coffee.

But upon seeing that Harry made an attempt to snatch the book away from Ron (with obvious intentions to make certain she would not get it), Hermione ran down and took it into possession, while telling off Harry for interfering in matters that did not concern him in the slightest. She hugged Ron like crazy, and as they also walked into the kitchen, she bugged him about how he had got a hold of it. Eventually, he admitted that George had a contact abroad who provided him with the book. Hermione, immediately, started drawing up a list of other books she still required after hearing that. Something that made Harry bury his head in his arms in mock despair, because as she spoke, the entire kitchen and living room were already completely unliveable due to all the books flowing around everywhere. Tom had patted him on the back comforting.

'Only four more days, Potter,' he whispered, while attempting to leave the kitchen through the labyrinth of textbooks.

xXxXx

This was how the coldest day in the middle of June arrived rather stressful. The wind sheared through the trees and the rain poured down on her with a vengeance. Hermione's clothes were completely soaked, but she did not notice this. She walked the path towards the Hogwarts Castle to take her first N.E.W.T. exam, and she was really nervous. She was so not prepared at all. Sure, she took some seventh year classes in Tom Riddle's era, but none in her own day and age. Today's turn was Charms in the morning and Potions early in the afternoon. And she wondered why anyone would be so foolish to test two difficult, important subjects at the same day when she heard shouting behind her.

'Hermione! Wait up!' Neville yelled.

Susan Bones, Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbott came walking down the path from Hogsmeade village as well. 'Are you taking your N.E.W.T.'s this year as well?' Hannah said, amazed. 'I don't understand how you could possibly manage. I made an arrangement with Professor McGonagall to return for classes next year.'

'Sure, we are taking those exams,' said Susan cheerfully. 'It's not like Hermione missed anything with the Carrow's teaching. Right Hermione?' And she hooked her arm in Hermione's, not noticing Hermione's brief resentment that Hannah had been given permission by McGonagall to do her seventh year with Ginny.

Neville snorted. 'Yeah, those classes were really hard and demanding,' he responded sarcastically. 'Though I think our battle from not so long ago might make up for the slacking D.A.D.A. classes we had this year. Fortunately, Harry whacked the bastard before I would have to do an actual Muggle Studies exam, because I am certain my responses would have got me killed for certain.'

'They already tried to kill you, Neville. And you were really brave the way you stood up to You-Know-Who. Everybody heard about what you did, telling him off like that,' Hannah reminded him proudly.

Hermione noticed they were holding hands the entire time, while they were walking down the path. She wondered when those two had become an item, but the Hogwarts' Castle became visible around the corner. She had not seen it from the outside in broad daylight yet and she was in for quite a shocker.

'Oh my…,' said Hermione, and she slammed her hand to her mouth.

The four of them stood still and watched the utterly destroyed castle horrified. 'I had no idea it was this bad,' Susan said softly.

'Where is the Astronomy Tower?' Hannah asked, appalled.

'The Gryffindor Tower is gone too,' whispered Neville.

The only Tower that completely survived the battle intact appeared to be the Ravenclaw Tower. The West Tower that contained the Owlery was also heavily damaged and the Tower that contained the Head's Office was still missing all its windows. They could see straight into the Charms Classroom on the third floor, because the outer wall was completely obliterated there. There were many other places identifiable where the bricks and stones were no longer present to shelter the inside of the castle from the influence of the ghastly weather outside. It truly was a gigantic mess. Hermione sincerely doubted they would be able to repair it on time before September and the arrival of the new school year.

Everywhere around the Castle were hovering scaffoldings visible with wizards and witches of the Department of Magical Buildings and Constructs working hard to restore Hogwarts back to its original glory. It was one big cacophony of noises, ranching from hammering to sawing to grinding to carving and so on. Hermione was thinking it was a pity Godric Gryffindor's book was destroyed. They sure could use it right now to repair the damage. It would have all been finished in a heartbeat if Infinity in Space was here to fix it. She remembered Godric wrote that it was all in shifting the balance to establish infinite change. Perhaps she should write down what she remembered of the book now that the theory was still fresh in her mind? It was something to consider – after her exams.

'Ooh… look,' said Susan, and she pointed to the Quidditch pitch. Or rather, she pointed to the place where the Quidditch pitch used to lay, because it was gone. The pitch, the tribunes and all the buildings around it were not there. It was like a couple of giants had stepped on it and pushed it straight into the ground, which is probably what happened, anyway.

They all silently walked on, exams forgotten upon seeing the vast destruction of a place they once called home. The white tomb that contained Albus Dumbledore's body received an honorary salute from the four passing members of Dumbledore's Army. Hermione chuckled for a moment, as she remembered how cheerfully he wore that ridiculous Christmas hat she designed not so long ago. She was quite surprised though that the tomb had survived the battle. Riddle wasn't exactly a member of the Dumbledore fan club and neither were his followers. Perhaps it had been rebuilt already.

A Ministerial Employee halted them and directed them to a safe path (away from the rebuilding efforts) that led to the Great Hall where the N.E.W.T.'s were to be taken. They were ordered to follow the red ribbons at all cost and not divert from the path, because it was a dangerous environment for children. Neville raised his eyebrows at the man's condescending tone of voice, but Hermione tried to lighten the mood by mockingly replying that they would stay on the yellow brick road. Only Hannah understood that and giggled for a moment; but she parted ways with them, since she was supposed to meet with McGonagall to make plans on how she was going to catch up on the missing half of her sixth year. She had left school after her mother was killed by Death Eaters, which left her with a sizable gap in her education when Hogwarts was to re-open next September.

So, only the three of them moved to the side entrance that had been temporarily made to the Great Hall. As they entered the Great Hall, Hermione noticed that the rebuilding noises ceased abruptly. Professor Flitwick was overseeing the students and he made his way over to greet them.

'Welcome back, welcome back,' Professor Flitwick squeaked enthusiastically. He patted Susan on the back and complimented them all on their Charms during the Final Battle. 'Please sign in with mister Weasley, so we can take note of your arrival.'

Hermione smiled and waved to Percy Weasley who, apparently, was the representative of the ministry during these exams. Kingsley Shacklebolt had rehired him before his resignation even was official. The three of them walked over to his table in order to be signed in. Hermione watched as Percy explained to Neville that he needed to use the ministerial provided quill and parchment to write the answers on. Percy smiled to Hermione, while Neville gathered his things.

'I see at least one of you three remembers the importance of a solid and completed education. I couldn't believe Ron took the Fre…,' and Percy fell silent and handed her the parchment and quill without another word.

Hermione bit her lip. The haunting images of Fred's funeral came back to mind. It had been too weird seeing George without his twin brother. Ron, who had joined George in running the joke shop, had been there for him; but he knew he was no replacement for Fred and the unity the two had shared. So many lives were lost, unnecessarily. It was all such an utter waste.

Hermione wished Susan and Neville luck on their tests and went to find a place to sit, when she saw a very familiar head of black hair sitting in the front row. His chair was balancing on the two back legs and he was twirling his wand around in clear boredom. 'That unbelievable obnoxious no good sneak,' she thought angrily, and she paced across the Great Hall toward him.

She slapped Tom across the head and placed her hands firmly in her side. He casually glanced sideways at her annoyed features. 'Back to the muggle punching?' Tom said, and he gave her a joyful wink.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. 'What are you doing here, Riddle?' she asked.

Tom pointed to the parchment and quill on his desk. 'I believe that is self explanatory, Granger,' he said smirking, while eyeing her up and down. 'Did you miss the lessons on Drying Charms by the way?'

Hermione, suddenly, realised she was still soaked from the rain outside; but before she was able to draw her wand, Tom had already cast the charm on her and steam vented out of her ears. 'You could catch a cold if you aren't more careful,' he muttered, while looking back at his quill as if he had never seen one before in his life.

Hermione rammed both her hands on his desk, and as she leaned forward, she whispered, 'Are you going to answer my question or what?'

Tom landed his chair back on all fours and leaned forward as well. 'Clearly, I've come here to finish my education, which, if I recall correctly, is what you have been bothering everyone about having to do for … oh … shall we say … the entire time I've been in this decade.'

'That is not what I mean and you know it. You have done nothing but mock my attempts to study for these exams and now you are here taking them as well. That is rich, Riddle.'

'Well, you were sort of overdoing things as usual, Hermione dearest,' he responded grinning.

'Hi, Harry. Hi, Hermione,' Parvati said.

Hermione turned around and Parvati blushed, when she saw Tom wasn't Harry. 'Oh, sorry, I-I t-thought …,' she stuttered.

'That's alright, easy mistake to make,' Tom said charming, and he held out his hand to Parvati. 'Tom Riddle.'

'I am Parvati Patil,' she replied, and Parvati's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of crimson when Tom kissed the palm of her hand.

'It's always a privilege to meet another one of Hermione's friends,' he smoothly said.

Hermione merely rolled her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head in disbelief when Parvati walked over to her twin sister Padma, giggling. Tom watched the girl walk away.

'Wow, and there are two of them. I think I might like this time-frame a whole lot better. The girls are so much more…,' but he halted his speech when he saw Hermione was watching him intently and she was tapping with her wand on the table. Tom mockingly held up his hands in defence. 'Alright, alright, I get the message. Do not bother Hermione's friends,' he said smirking, and he added softly, 'even if they are exceptionally good-looking.'

Hermione sighed. 'Don't you even have an ounce of shame, Riddle?'

'About being kind to a really attractive…'

'No, about this all,' Hermione hissed, and she waved her hand around the Great Hall. 'Have you even seen the amount of destruction you caused? And you do realise you were just flirting with someone that fought you not so long ago.'

'Really?' Tom said, even more interested now, and he turned around to watch the twin sisters, who had sat down together somewhere in the middle of the row. 'Hmm… well, she does look like a Gryffindor to me, though her sister … never in a million years.'

Padma elbowed Parvati in the side and nodded to Tom. Parvati's face went scarlet when he gave her a smile and a wave. Hermione felt like hitting her head on the table, or even better, hitting Tom's head on the table. She had really seen enough of this act in 1944 to last her a lifetime.

'Ravenclaw?' Tom asked, and he looked back at Hermione, who watched him astonished.

'It's all in being a keen observer, dear. There is this really interesting book on human behaviour written by Mosley. You see, it is easy to determine which House someone belongs in if you watch the defining characteristics of an individual,' he explained smugly.

Hermione was about to retort something about defining characteristics to Tom when Flitwick demanded everyone's attention. The exam was going to start. Hermione quickly took a seat in the front row also. Nervously, she was going over the advanced Charms commonalities in her mind with some difficulty; but as soon as the questions were placed in front of her, she started writing down the answers vigorously. She was somewhat surprised and slightly relieved about the - in her eyes - rather simple and easy to make test.

The gong rang. Hermione, quickly, finished scribbling down her final sentence and placed the quill on the table. She looked around and noticed Riddle had already left, while Neville who sat behind her gave her a beaming, encouraging smile and he raised his thumb up to indicate how his exam went. Hermione mimicked the gesture. She was certain she scored well. She couldn't think of one wrong answer, _yet_. But she always felt that way right after a test. It wasn't until she had more time to reconsider her answers that she would remember all the things she had forgotten to write down. And, as Harry and Ron knew, by the time others had long forgotten about what on earth the questions had been, Hermione would still be able to recite them and panic over everything she did wrong, only to receive an "O" for Outstanding in the end.

Professor Flitwick announced that a lunch would be provided in a tent that had been placed on the grounds next to the lake in the mean time. So, they all left the Great Hall to go there. As Hermione was walking next to Neville, she noticed the almost identical bags Padma and Parvati were carrying. One had a prominent blue-bronze eagle as a buckle and the other a red-gold Griffin.

'Book on human behaviour, my arse,' Hermione muttered underneath her breath.

'What?' Neville asked.

'Oh, nothing,' replied Hermione. 'So you and Hannah?' she enquired curiously.

Neville turned slightly pink when he told Hermione all about how they met again in Diagon Alley after Voldemort's fall and had continued to see each other after that brief meeting.

'It was really nice to hear a cheerful story for a change,' Hermione thought upon entering the tent. They walked to the buffet table and got something to eat and drink from the abundance of food available. Hermione settle for a couple of sandwiches. She wasn't that hungry anyway.

'How are you and Ron doing?' Neville asked.

'Problematic,' said Hermione shortly.

'Oh, I am sorry to hear that,' Neville muttered apologetically, scratching his head.

But Hermione did not reply to his muttering, because she located Tom Riddle and he was casually leaning against a table conversing with Hannah. And from the looks of things, Hannah did most of the talking and Riddle did most of the listening. 'Oh Harry,' Hermione thought, 'can't you keep at least like a dozen or so Aurors on his tail?'

She really felt it was very uncomfortable to watch Riddle talk to her friends, while they had no idea who they were actually freely giving information to. It was all most disconcerting.

'Neville, there you are,' said Hannah, 'How did your Charms exam go?'

'Fine, I think. I am not certain about the two last questions, but the rest was alright,' Neville replied. 'Don't you agree, Hermione?'

'It was doable,' she merely responded.

Riddle watched the exchange with a blank expression on his face, which made Hermione incredibly suspicious.

'Oh, I am sure _you_ had all the answers,' Hannah said, smiling to Hermione.

Tom snorted. 'She should … after flooding the house with all those textbooks,' he teasingly said, and his eyes darted cheerfully to Hermione.

Neville gave him a curious look, but Hannah explained. 'Tom is a guest in Harry's house at the moment. He has no home anymore, since You-Know-Who killed his father.'

Hermione practically choked in her sandwich. They all looked at her and Neville patted her on the back. She coughed slightly and held up her hand to signal she was fine. Riddle watched her intently and she saw the glee that flashed through his features. It took all her restraint not to hex him to eternity and back again. He actually had the nerve to use those things to his advantage. The – the… No, she just didn't think the right word to describe him was invented already.

'I am sorry for your loss,' said Neville, and he extended his hand. 'I don't believe we met, yet. I am Neville Longbottom.'

Riddle watched the outstretched hand for a brief moment and then shook it with a calculated expression Hermione did not like one bit. Actually, she was beginning to not like a single thing Tom Marvolo Riddle did at the moment.

'I suppose … you could say we haven't,' Tom said puzzling, 'Tom Riddle.'

'Nice to meet another friend of Harry and Hermione's,' Neville said, somewhat confused at the unusual behaviour. 'So, you have been fighting Lord Voldemort as well?'

'No, can't say I have,' Riddle said smiling broadly. 'But he did cause a lot of trouble for my next of kin.'

And his amused eyes darted briefly to Hermione, who was now utterly annoyed and glared at him. Tom, on the other hand, was clearly enjoying himself a lot.

'We all had to hide at one point,' Luna said, who had joined them. 'I am Luna Lovegood.'

'Nice to meet you. I am Tom Riddle,' he said.

'Yes, I heard,' Luna replied. 'Where did you go to school? I have never seen you at Hogwarts before.'

'I was home schooled,' Riddle replied.

'Really? That has become rather unusual. Most parents can't meet the standard. My father wanted to teach me, but the Governors said he wasn't qualified,' Luna said sadly. 'They told him that the Crumple Horned Snorkack did not exist and that he was not allowed to make up his own curriculum.'

'How rude of them,' Tom replied understandingly.

'So you're just here for the exams?' Luna said.

Tom nodded.

'How about you, Luna?' asked Neville curiously.

'Oh, Professor Flitwick gave me a large stack of homework to do this summer, so I can catch up on the classes I missed when I was imprisoned. Not that I missed much this year anyway,' she grinned.

'Imprisoned?' asked Tom curiously.

Hermione hoped this nasty situation would come to an end soon when it did, because Slughorn waltzed in on them. The Professor's beady eyes darted between Hermione and Tom. 'The Headmistress needs to speak with you right away, Tom, if you'll follow me,' said Slughorn shortly, and he immediately turned around and paced out of the tent.

Tom grinned. 'I was wondering when that would become an issue,' he stated, snorting. 'See you all around.'

And he waved them goodbye as he quickly left the tent. Hermione frowned at his back. What issue?

'Strange fellow,' Neville said, while taking another bite out of his sausage.

'That is not a nice thing to say, Neville. Can't you tell he lost everything due to the war?' Hannah said, not knowing how true that statement was.

Neville shrugged.

Seamus came over and greeted them all with his mouth stuffed full of food. 'That's disgusting, Seamus,' said Hermione, with a wrinkled nose.

'Tom was done with that exam one whole hour before you lot came out. He must be really smart,' Hannah added, clearly not finished with lecturing Neville.

'Or he was just too dim-witted to know any of the answers,' Seamus said grinning.

Hermione snorted.

They all looked at her, expectantly.

'I'm sure he's got nothing to worry about,' Hermione, finally, answered.

'Who's got nothing to worry about?' asked Seamus, chewing away his food.

'Is he some sort of genius?' Luna asked.

'Who?' Seamus repeated, more clearly now.

'Your dim-witted guy,' Neville replied dryly.

Hermione couldn't hold it in anymore and she laughed out loud. Seamus glanced to everybody in the group, but upon realising he would never receive a straight answer after that remark, he merely shrugged and took another bite out of his meatloaf.

'Oooh, Seamus! Do you need to show everyone what's in your mouth?' Neville said mocking.

Seamus burst with laughter and his food sprayed out of his mouth.

'Men,' said Hannah, disgusted.

xXxXx

And so the N.E.W.T.'s kept continuing for the next two weeks. One thing was different though. Tom was not seen around the others anymore. Every time he was finished with his exam, he made his way to the examiner's table, handed in his papers and folded his arms with a mocking expression on his face, waiting for his escort out of there to arrive. Hermione had noticed this new protocol started at the end of the Potions' final. Apparently, McGonagall had decided it was not a good idea if Riddle was given a free rein around the school.

On Hermione's last exam day she looked up from her Arithmancy test to see Tom had yet again finished before all the others and was waiting patiently by the table to be allowed to leave. When he noticed that she was watching, he rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Hermione shook her head and he winked at her, while making a nonverbal gesture with his hands indicating that _he_ was completely finished.

'Go fish, Riddle,' she mouthed, and he smirked.

That afternoon she would have her last final, and then, she would be finished with all her N.E.W.T.'s as well. At least she had taken a sensible subject instead of Divination, even if that meant she still had to be here for the rest of the day. And so she was, until the gong rang, ending her final test and Hermione Jean Granger left her Hogwarts years behind her for good.

xXxXx

The snake's doorknob of Twelve Grimmauld Place clutched against the weathered wood several times. Hermione couldn't wait to be indoors. She just wanted to sit down with a nice warm cup of coffee, and then, go off to bed to forget all about this dreadful last exam day. She was now certain she failed every subject, because while she was walking back to the Hogsmeade village to Apparate home; she had remembered all the things she had forgotten to write down. Hermione now knew she made several horrible miscalculations in her Arithmancy test for certain. Harry opened the door and gave her an apologetic smile. She wondered what that was about, until she heard the bickering voices that came from the kitchen.

'Not again,' Hermione said, and she sighed.

Harry nodded. 'It's like Snape and Sirius all over again,' he said, tired.

Even though she had been busy and swamped with schoolwork, Hermione was not unobservant. She had witnessed the numerous times Ron and Tom had gone for each other's throats. But while she was still too pre-occupied with her studies and attempts to get good grades, she had pretended not to notice.

However, she was already in a foul mood at the moment, because she was convinced she failed every subject anyway, and her patience with those two was about to come to an abrupt end. She paced past Harry and slammed open the door.

Ron was firing hex after hex after hex at Riddle, who was lazily avoiding them. 'Come on Weasley, surely you can do better than that,' Tom tauntingly stated, while blocking another jinx without effort.

'What the hell do you two think you are doing?' Hermione hissed furiously.

Tom looked sideways in amusement and his brief moment of distraction was all Ron needed. 'Hebra Oppognu!'

Ron cast an attack charm on the ivy in the alcove. It flew into the air and took a hold of Riddle, immediately covering him up from head to toe. Tom desperately tried to get rid of the bothersome twigs and branches, but every time he had untangled himself from the one, another took hold. At some point he almost freed himself, so Ron shouted, 'Engorgio!'

The plant grew at astronomical speed. It was a rather strange sight seeing a bunch of wriggling green leaves take out the Dark Lord.

'What's the matter, Riddle?' jeered Ron triumphantly. 'Can't you even get rid of some piece of weed? I suppose it is hard to tell the difference between yourself and-'

A flash. The branches stopped moving. Slowly, the plant turned black and the twigs started melting together further and further, until they resembled one big black branch that uncoiled away from Riddle. Ron's eyes widened upon seeing it had a mouth with a forked tongue. Tom hissed something to it. It swirled around and the black snake flung itself at Ron…

'Finite Incantatem!' roared Hermione.

A completely battered up piece of ivy fell down on the floor, motionless.

'Enough!' yelled Hermione, angrily. 'Enough.'

The two lowered their wands upon seeing the furious figure of the cause of their arguments. Hermione had no idea how much she resembled Molly Weasley in that moment when she told them to knock it off. 'Can't you two act like mature people for even a single second?' she added, irritated.

'Well, it would be less difficult to do that if there were two mature people in this room,' Tom sneered. 'Because one of us is so insecure of himself that he needs constant reassuring that he is capable of achieving even a minor victory.'

'A minor victory, a minor victory,' Ron repeated furiously.

Hermione noticed that this time around it wasn't just Ron's ears that had turned red. No, Ron's entire face had completely transformed into one big red flag. It was so bright you could use it to signal to an airplane with it. It was obvious Riddle was able to push every single one of Ron's buttons without effort.

'Yes, a minor victory, Weasley. Congratulations, you were able to transfigure a plant into a weapon. Something, I might add, a third year should be capable of doing.'

'Six Horcruxes, Riddle, six. All destroyed right underneath your flattened nose. I doubt that counts as a little victory,' Ron hissed. 'And I promise you … we will get rid of you again.'

Hermione saw the red dash fly through Tom's eyes, and she felt the shift in his temper inside of her. He was no longer enjoying himself. Ron had definitely struck a nerve there.

'You think so, weasel?' Tom softly spoke, and he took a menacing step forward.

Hermione recognised the tone and knew she had to stop this now, before it got out of hand and they could transport Ron to St. Mungo's or worse. Just in time, she jumped in between the two hotheads and pushed them apart. Harry stood, alarmed, in the kitchen's doorway. He had also recognised Riddle's tone, and to Hermione's relief, he had pulled out his wand and eyed the situation sharply. Ron, on the other hand, was far too angry to notice anything and he was not at all done with pissing off Dark Lord Junior.

'I know so, Tommy boy. It will be like taking candy from a baby – though I suppose some of us in this room would find that an extremely difficult task,' Ron tauntingly said.

Hermione held her breath. Tom's fury (she felt in that moment of silence) was enormous and it struck fear in her heart. She knew what he would do next, before he moved. So, Hermione swirled around and grabbed Tom's wrists; even though she could never wrestle him down, because he was by far stronger than her. However, she hoped their physical connection would trigger the bond and distract him enough to stop him. She saw his dark eyes dart towards her brown ones, and she could feel he was using up ever bit of his restraint not to hex Ron into oblivion. He stared at her intently, and in the distance, she heard Harry trying to get Ron to back off, when Ron's triumphant voice came crushing in.

'Let's take count, shall we? One Philosopher Stone not obtained, because of three eleven year olds; one diary destroyed that, I might add, could not even continue to fool an eleven year old girl; a Basilisk slain while your sorry arse was standing by watching; a resurrection you budged up; a prophecy sphere you could not get your hands on…'

Hermione hoped Harry was ready, because Riddle moved and she could no longer stop him.

'No,' she said desperate, fearing for Ron's safety.

But instead of hexing Ron, Tom grabbed a hold of Hermione around her waist, pulled her close and kissed her possessively on the lips. It was like all hell broke loose. A loud crash followed as Ron tossed Harry across the room. He grabbed the Black Vase from the table and used the family heirloom in a manner that would have got Sirius's utmost approval. He used it as a battering ram on Tom Riddle's head. Tom turned, his wand ready…

'Expelliarmus!' yelled Harry, and two wands (Ron's and Tom's) flew through the air straight into his hands.

That did not stop the two. A second later Ron and Tom plummeted to the ground, while Ron was trying to smash Riddle to pulp with his fists, and Tom was trying to strangle Ron. Hermione and Harry stared at the two in utter astonishment, until…

'Stupefy,' Hermione cast, lazily.

'Nice one,' said Harry, who dumped the two wands on the table. 'Want some coffee, Hermione?'

'Sounds like an excellent plan to me, Harry,' answered Hermione.

The two of them sat down at the large dining room table, not paying anymore attention to the two stupefied wizards on the floor. Eventually, they finished the coffee, and the problem at hand resurfaced.

'You'll have to make a decision, Hermione,' Harry said calmly. 'This can't go on like this.'

Hermione frowned. 'You'll think any decision I make will stop this? HA! You'll think they will accept one?'

Harry had no reply to her legitimate questions and Hermione continued.

'Besides, everything has changed. I have changed. I don't know what I want anymore, Harry. When I am with Ron, it feels like old times and I know I loved him, but Tom… It's just that our bond makes everything so complicated and the way I feel when we have contact is… AAAH!' she shouted, and she felt like pulling out her hair with her bare hands out of sheer frustration. 'I just don't want to ever let go of him and I can't possibly feel that way about Tom, because he is … Well ... It's just a really, really bad idea to get even remotely attached to him. It feels like I am losing my mind here and I can't even think straight when he holds me.'

'I can't think straight when Ginny holds me, so…'

Hermione growled. 'That is not the same. I meant I can't distinguish between myself and him if that makes any sense at all to you? His emotions are just too damn overwhelming.'

'Oh yeah,' said Harry, sighing, 'unfortunately, that makes all the sense in the world to me.'

'How did you deal will it?' asked Hermione.

'Not well, if you remember my mood swings in our fifth year,' Harry replied. 'But he is not in your mind as well, is he?'

'No, he tried controlling that too, once, but it backfired on him. We share emotions and feelings. Still, I don't know how to make choices now. How do I know they are my own?'

'You remember who you were and use that as a measurement for decisions you're going to make,' said Harry, making it sound oh so simple.

'But I am already beginning to doubt who I was and who I am. It's like when Minerva said I had to do my N.E.W.T.'s this year. I wanted to kill her for saying that.'

'Well, you were probably just upset over…'

'No, Harry. I really, _really_ wanted to hurt her for blocking my plans.'

'Okay, I guess it is safe to say that would be Riddle's way of dealing with the situation,' Harry said casually. 'See, I knew we would find out the distinction between you and him.'

'That sarcastic attempt at humour is not helping, Potter,' said Hermione in an eerie likeness to Severus Snape. 'And having Tom around me isn't helping either. Every time we have contact it is like I lose a little bit more of myself and I get sucked in.'

'Then, put some distance between the both of you. Take a vacation. Find out what you want without interference. You're done with your exams and you haven't taken on any other responsibilities yet, so you can go where you please.'

Hermione considered Harry's suggestion. It wasn't a bad one. 'When did you get so smart?' she asked Harry rather unflattering.

'Well, I thought, if you are going to turn into me… then I'd better take some of your responsibilities,' said Harry, grinning.

'Wow, you better beware,' Hermione replied mocking, 'pretty soon you are going to quote something from Hogwarts: A History.'

'The hundredth edition or one of the earlier ones?' asked Harry, casually.

Hermione furrowed her brows and watched Harry. 'How do you know there is a difference between those editions?' she suspiciously asked.

Harry started snickering.

Hermione gasped. 'Harry James Potter, when did you read that book?'

Harry roared with laughter. 'Oh come on, Hermione. After you mentioned it in the Great Hall during our Sorting Ceremony, I got kind of curious and I borrowed it from the library.'

'You read that book during our first year and never mentioned it to me!' Hermione shouted, outraged.

'Well, you enjoyed telling us off with it so much that I failed to see the point in spoiling your fun,' Harry said laughing, and he did an uncanny imitation of Hermione next. 'You can not Apparate inside Hogwarts. How many times do I need to tell you that? Are you ever going to read Hogwarts: A History?' Harry said, mimicking Hermione's bossy tone, folding his arms over each other as she did in these moments.

Hermione roared with laughter. 'You're wicked, Harry,' she cheerfully said, 'reading that book without telling me about it.'

They both had a good laugh about it.

After they were done laughing, Hermione contemplated on Harry's suggestion to take a vacation away from it all. She watched Tom and Ron on the floor and shook her head. 'He'll follow me around.'

Harry snorted. 'And risk his very existence?' he said smugly.

'You're underestimating him, Harry.'

'You're giving him way too much credit, Hermione. He has no one to fall back on in this era.'

'Tom Riddle never relied on help from others before.'

'True, but he could go around his business mainly unnoticed back then. Trust me, I might see that the bond is affecting him as well, and I am certain he loves you; but I am not a fool. I know perfectly well what he is capable of doing. He is not going anywhere without me knowing about it.'

When Harry saw Hermione's puzzled frown at his statement, he added, 'Remember, this time around, I have to full force of the ministry behind me. I made some special arrangements with Kingsley, our interim Minister of Magic. I promise you, Tom is in no position to follow you around. So go abroad; do what you need doing; find yourself again; and visit your parents. Yes, Hermione, we all noticed you had not brought them back to this country.'

'I am just not certain it is safe for them to come home,' said Hermione.

'Is that really it or are you afraid of their reaction once they realise what you did to them?' Harry asked mildly.

Hermione bit her lip. 'A bit of both I suppose,' she whispered. 'They're going to be angry.'

'They love you,' replied Harry. 'Of course they will be angry, especially once they realise what kind of danger you put yourself in; but I doubt they will hold the Obliviating and relocating them to a safe place against you.'

'Oh, I don't know. They might. I didn't exactly ask their permission first, Harry. And I sort of promised them I would never use magic on them.'

'We were in a war, Hermione. They knew that much. Dumbledore told them, didn't he?'

'Yes, he told them; but they already lost their dental practise, because no one could find it anymore after Professor Dumbledore cast the wards around their house. And they were pretty furious about him doing so first and telling them about it afterwards.'

Harry gave her a surprised look. 'They had objections to Dumbledore placing wards around your home to protect them?'

'No,' said Hermione. 'No, they understood why he did it. I mean, with me being friends with you and all. But they were just angry, because he did not ask for their approval first. And I sort of did the same, only worse, because well… I knew they would say no if I asked. So, I did not ask purposely.'

'Voldemort would have used them against us. Well, that is what we thought before we knew he was smitten with you,' Harry snickered.

'Very funny, Harry Potter, you really are the most hilarious person I ever met,' Hermione mocked. 'But I suppose you're right. I can't keep putting off facing my parents. They have a right to know what happened. Besides, what you said before about placing some distance between Tom Riddle and me … That sure is a valid idea. I might be able to figure out what I want if I am not surrounded by this idiocy,' and she waved to Tom and Ron on the floor.

'That is exact what I was thinking. You need to relax a bit, get away from it all, so you can get your own perspective back,' agreed Harry. 'Don't worry about Riddle. I'll keep an eye on him.'

'Just one?' Hermione asked jokingly.

'Fine, two eyes,' Harry surrendered, and he stood up at the same time as Hermione.

She eyed the two stupefied wizards on the floor with doubt in her eyes.

'I'll undo the charm once you're gone,' said Harry. 'That way you don't have to watch the argument whose fault it is that you're leaving.'

'If they have another argument, tell them I said they should start dating each other,' Hermione said, smirking.

Harry snorted. 'Don't tempt me; I might just do that.'

Hermione waved her wand around, and a moment later, all her belongings arrived downstairs. They were all tucked away right in her beaded bag, just as she had done before. She hugged Harry. 'Be careful, Harry.'

'You too, Mione. Don't forget to owl me,' he said.

'I won't, and Harry… go see Ginny,' Hermione said.

Harry looked at her, confused. 'What do you mean? I see Ginny all the time.'

'She hasn't been here, has she?' Hermione replied, knowingly.

'No, but we've all been busy.'

'Harry, she still has nightmares from her first year at Hogwarts. You need to talk to Ginny or you're going to lose her, because of this,' said Hermione, concerned, and she nodded to Tom on the floor as if Harry would have had no idea what she meant otherwise.

'I didn't know… I thought she had got over that.'

'Ginny is strong. She will cope; but you need to talk to her, because having a living, breathing reminder around might be trying for her to face all the time. Especially, since he is living in the same house as you. And she loves you Harry. You might want to either rethink this living arrangement or have a good and meaningful conversation with Ginny about it.'

Harry nodded. 'I'll listen to her.'

Hermione smiled. 'Good,' she muttered.

They looked at each other kind of awkward. 'Well… I guess I should go now. Say goodbye to Ron from me, and … to that other idiot.'

'I will.'

'Bye Harry.'

'Bye Hermione.'

Hermione Jean Granger stepped out the door of Twelve Grimmauld Place and Apparated away to Australia to find Wendell and Monica Wilkins. If Hermione and Harry would have known at that time how long it would be, before they would lay eyes on each other again, they might have said a bit more than a mere word of goodbye.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **you know the drill. Don't own and getting no money.

**Author's note: **Thank you for all your reviews; TwilightGirl100196, Abbelmus, Siddyi, Rosilini, Hatami, Amber530, CullenCovenGirl88, Ravenx7, StarzAngelus, Anony, Aoi Mitsukai, Ilaaris, Summer Leah, SriHellgirl25, GoldenTresses91, Alea Seikou, Switchitt, Claerwin, CYLi, Ali-lue, Ilovenat1995, SpeedDemon315, Blindfaithoperadiva, Ankoku Dezaia, Medusaasaphoenix, Acceptedmisconceptions, RedPhoenix23, and Artemis Moon87.

Anony; I am afraid the chronological order didn't work the way I hoped it would. I had written a couple of chapters that way and noticed this would become a too huge a story if I continued it like this, and in the end, I would still be stuck with the fact that this story revolves around time-travels. So, I decided to look at other ways to help readers keep track of the different time-lines. I'll probably kick a couple of sup-plots and make it more clear there is time-tampering going on from the beginning of the story. Hope it won't turn you off again. (If it's Hermione being with Krum, I'd advise to stick along – that won't take long).

_**Shameless plugging of "The Gold Puppet", a Tomione written by Serpent-In-Red and myself under the name "The Silver Puppet Masters" **(don't ask, grins)._

* * *

**Masters of manipulation part 2**

**Chapter two**

Time. Ever present and unavoidable. They say it flies when you're having fun. Or it freezes in that one moment you dreamt off. But Time moves as it wishes, on its accord. Set in correct intervals, second after second. All similar, all identical, precise and systematic. You can literally clock time. Seconds become minutes; minutes turn into hours, hours to days, weeks, years, decades, centuries, millennia. Ruthless and unrelenting in all its chronological order, linear, moving along in that one direction, forward.

_Well, for most of us, anyway. _

With a thundering noise, the building of St. Mungo's fell down. Those trapped behind the hospital's wards would have no means of escape. The death toll would be immense.

'Morsmordre!' cast a hooded fellow standing in the middle of the street, while muggle cars rushed past him, never hitting him once to her sincere disappointment.

Having the best or rather worst view of the scene before her, Hermione stood on the sidewalk at the opposite end of what used to be St. Mungo's; a firm arm wrapped around her waist, pressing her against his tall frame, his wand in his hand, making sure she'd not intervene. She'd been inside, just as he was, only mere moments ago. Her husband still was. Tom Riddle had seen no reason to spare his life, though.

Fortunately, she hadn't brought Rose to the fundraiser, as the others had wanted her to. Hermione was positive she would have lost it altogether if she'd have to watch her daughter die. Her mind worked overtime on how to keep Rose and her friends safe, preferably away from _him_. Her house was well-warded, but Viktor's sister, Angela – who was babysitting Rose, James, Albus and Lily – would not be able to keep him out indefinitely.

Merlin, what about Harry and Ginny's children? How was she going to tell them their parents and the rest of their family were dead? Tom had just orphaned them, and they were now her responsibility, seeing as she was their Godmother. She had to protect them, too. Somehow, she had to. She'd promised Harry.

An idea formed in her mind when Tom's hand caressed the side of her face. She would use their bond to her advantage, just as he had when he had incapacitated her in order to move her from the premises – two could play this game. It wasn't over, yet.

She had tensed when he first touched her, but now, she made herself relax against his body – surrendering in order to fight another day. She had to see his organisation from within before she could sabotage it.

His mark in the sky lit up the ruins, enhancing the terror it would fill in people's hearts when its picture would be printed in the Daily Prophet tomorrow. Tom Riddle had finally decided to show his true colours to the world.

'Mummy?'

_Oh Godric_, _no,_ she thought desperately upon hearing Rose's frightened voice. _I don't want her to see this. Viktor is underneath there._

She tensed again and felt Tom's arm tighten around her waist warningly.

'Mummy, mummy, there are monsters in my room!'

That didn't make sense.

Her body shook. Why was Tom shaking her? She wasn't struggling or otherwise opposing him, _at the moment._

'Mummy, wake up,' demanded Rose, yanking at her arm.

Was she asleep? It didn't feel like it. Her eyes were open, weren't they? She saw the street. A silver flash blinded her eyes and everything turned dark.

'Lumos,' Hermione muttered, disoriented.

She yawned as she opened her eyes, stretching her still not quite awake and severely perspiring body. Merlin, that was one hell of a nightmare – she couldn't shake the distress immediately. Two tiny hands shook her arm again, causing her to firmly arrive in the here and now. Her daughter needed her – she didn't have time to dwell on dreams. She needed to get a grip on reality, _now_.

'Underneath my bed, mummy. You need to kill the monsters,' Rose whispered, and she bossily pointed to the door.

'What is going on?' Viktor mumbled from his side of the bed sleepily.

'Nothing dear, Rose probably had a nightmare.'

'Did not,' Rose said indignantly. 'The monsters have come to kill me.'

'And they're hiding underneath your bed at the moment?' Hermione inquired calmly. She sat up, yawning again as she threw her legs over the edge of the bed.

'Yes!'

'Then, why haven't they tried to kill you when you walked over here?' she asked Rose reasonably.

Rose bit her lip and frowned. The little seven-year-old thought hard. 'Because I–I got out of bed on the right side. They aren't allowed to attack people who leave the bed on the right side,' she triumphantly stated.

Hermione was able to stifle her laughter about the sheer ingenuity of the explanation and looked at her side of the bed (the left side) with fake concern. 'Am I not going to be in trouble now?' she asked Rose, going along with the story.

Viktor jumped out off their bed on his side. 'I'll better go, then,' and he winked to Hermione.

'No! I need mummy! Monsters aren't frightened of you. They are only scared of mummy!' Rose squeaked, panicking.

'How very true,' Viktor said grinning.

He was not at all insulted by his daughter's refusal to let him help, because he agreed firmly with Rose. Despite her petite size, Hermione could be incredibly intimidating if she made an effort – much more than him. He'd seen her in action more than once and he pitied the fools who tried to pull one over on her. So, he crawled back underneath the warm covers of the bed with an apologetic smile to his wife, since this meant she definitely had to be the one to get up.

Hermione picked up her wand, which lay on her nightstand. 'So, underneath the bed?'

Rose nodded certain and wobbled out after her mother.

'Try to kill them quietly,' Viktor said teasingly, 'the neighbours are still complaining about the noise we made the other night.'

Hermione looked over her shoulder and shook her head at her husband, who enjoyed himself a lot.

'You want a little baby brother or sister, right Rose?' Viktor added cheerfully.

'No,' Rose said bluntly.

Hermione snorted. 'Too bad, darling, she isn't helping you out tonight.'

Viktor sighed. 'I guess I could go back to sleep,' he grudgingly said.

'You're pouting like a five-year-old, hon,' Hermione replied, while she exited the bedroom with Rose right behind her.

'I never pout,' Rose said resentfully.

Hermione smiled and ruffled her hand through her daughter's bushy brown curls. 'I know. I wasn't talking about you. Pouting is something men do,' Hermione informed her.

'Heard that!' Viktor called out in mock protest.

'See,' said Hermione to Rose, and she opened the door to her daughter's bedroom nonchalantly. 'Stupify!' Her wand cast towards the bed. 'Now, let's see who is hiding underneath your bed, shall we?'

Rose nodded and walked in after Hermione, holding on to her mother's pyjamas for protection. Hermione was about to bend over to check underneath when she heard some cast, 'Muffliato!'

Rose screamed and got pulled away from her, while someone else grabbed a hold of Hermione's waist and wrist, the latter to prevent her from pointing her wand at anyone. Another dark figure approached her on her right. She rolled her wand between her fingers to gain the right angle and it flashed – the person crumbled up on the floor. A knife flew toward her, and with catlike reflexes, she caught it in midair with her left hand.

'Thanks,' she mock-thanked the person foolish enough to hand her an additional weapon.

She twirled the knife around in her hand, and quickly stepped back, pushing her body into her attacker. As she stabbed the knife into him, she bent over and tossed the fellow across the room, ripping open his body in the process, because she had not let go off the heft of the large blade. He crashed straight into Rose's nightstand, bleeding severely. She felt a presence approach her on the left and tossed the knife in his direction before he could reach her. She saw the shadow fall, as she swirled around with her wand raised to curse the one, who had snatched Rose away from her. She looked straight into a very familiar face.

'Vishna, you idiot, I could have killed you all,' Hermione hissed, and she lowered her wand. 'Don't you know how to knock on people's doors?'

The old vampire smiled broadly, exposing his fangs in the process. His scruffy, short, dark-brown hair stood up straight as usual, giving off the distinct impression of an aggravated hedgehog, while his grey eyes twinkled in amusement. His red-and-black traditional vampire cloak hung gracefully around his shoulders, while a not so traditional wand was in one hand and the other held onto Rose. He'd kept her sheltered behind him to prevent accidental harm being inflicted upon the little girl during the fighting.

'I knew you could do it, Rosie,' the vampire said calmly. He held up his pale hand towards Rose and she gave him a high-five.

'I won, I won,' Rose said triumphantly, dancing around, 'mummy beat them all, as I said.'

'Yes, I believe you are correct,' Vishna stated, glancing over his fallen comrades with a tsk, before watching Hermione proudly. 'It seems your mother has not given up on her training. So, I now owe you a vampire debt, Rose.'

'Cool,' Rose said, too young to understand the true meaning of such a thing.

Hermione sighed and looked at the mess. The vampire she cursed was still unconscious on the floor. The one she tossed the knife at was already getting up again, and despite the knife that was stuck in his chest, he appeared in good enough shape. The one she dumped over her shoulder was still bleeding heavily from the large wound in his belly. But Hermione knew help would not be appreciated, so she did nothing.

'You did use magic though,' Vishna reprimanded.

'My daughter is here. I'll use whatever I've got to defend us both,' Hermione snapped. 'Besides, you're being an awful big hypocrite with that stick in your hand.'

Vishna smirked and caressed his wand affectionately. 'Well, I wasn't planning on using it against another vampire. That simply is not done.'

Hermione snorted. 'Like I said, hypocritical all way.'

'Nothing human is strange to us, Hermione. You should have learnt that a long time ago.'

'What are you doing here, Vishna? And why did you sneak into my house when I have a perfectly fine functioning doorbell outside?'

'Uncle Vishna did not want daddy knowing they were here,' Rose answered.

Hermione glared at the vampire, because that didn't merit an attack on her person; but her curiosity was peeked nevertheless.

'We need to talk,' Vishna said softly, 'privately.'

'Then, clean up this mess of yours and sent these incompetent fools away,' Hermione ordered with a dismissive wave towards the injured vampires.

Vishna smiled and gave her a courteous nod. 'You remember our ways, good.'

Hermione turned in the doorway. 'If I followed your customs to the letter, I would have slain every single one of you for violating my home.'

'Well, I never said there was no room for improvement,' Vishna said dryly.

'Rose, to bed,' Hermione said.

'But mummy, I want to stay with uncle Vishna,' Rose objected.

'Listen to your mother, Rose,' Vishna said. 'It is the vampire way to respect one's elders.'

Rose gave them a pouting look.

'And I will tell you a vampire tale later on if you go to sleep now,' Vishna added.

'Yay!' Rose cheered, and she immediately jumped into bed. 'Will it be bloody?' she asked hopefully, and she gave Vishna a pleading look.

'It is a vampire tale,' Vishna replied indignantly.

Apparently, it was enough of an affirmative answer to Rose since she pulled the covers over her head and called out that she was now sleeping. The vampire glanced at Hermione, who had a mocking smile on her face.

'You big softy,' she whispered. 'I'll go and tell Viktor – er – something.' And she left the room, pretending to give Viktor some excuse.

By the time she returned, Rose's room was back in pristine condition; the other vampires had left, and Rose lay underneath her blankets being tucked in by Vishna. 'I will be back in the morning to tell you all about the Great Adventures of the Vampire Princess. So, the sooner you fall asleep, the sooner you will hear it. Alright?'

Rose nodded, excited, and pressed her eyelids together, determined to fall asleep quickly. Hermione kissed her daughter goodnight and walked outside with Vishna. They strolled through the gardens for a while in silence. The moon crawled out from behind a singular, black cloud, lightening up the deserted area around them. The Krum Mansion was located in a dense forest in Bulgaria with a large, mainly private terrain around it. Hermione looked up at the starry sky. They twinkled brightly upon them, as she eventually sat down on one of the stone benches with Vishna.

'The Great Adventures of the Vampire Princess,' said Hermione to break the silence. 'Since when do vampires have princesses?'

'Well, I tried to think of something a young girl can relate to,' Vishna responded.

'How thoughtful of you. Now, what is this big emergency that makes you think you can just waltz back into my life like nothing happened.'

'It was an accident!'

'You bit me.'

'I apologised; what more do you want? Really, the Haemo-Scotch fell exceptionally bad that night,' muttered Vishna.

'If one can't hold one's liquor, one should not be drinking at all.'

'I am a vampire. We party.'

Hermione sighed and shook her head. She knew all about vampires and their desire to party twenty-four/seven. She had lived among them at Krakatau for quite some time after all. And when vampires said party, they meant Haemo-Scotch, Haemo-Scotch, and … did she mention Haemo-Scotch already?

'I suppose there is no point in repeating that debate. Why have you come?' Hermione asked matter-of-factly.

'The others are getting restless, Hermione. They want answers.'

'I have none to give.'

'Then, I recommend making up something good, because that answer will simply not do.'

'Is that a threat, Vishna? Because you should know I do not respond well to those,' Hermione hissed.

'No, it is a friendly warning. And frankly, I am kind of curious myself. How do you expect to achieve our goals when you are hiding out here in Bulgaria?'

'I am not hiding. I have my reasons for staying here at the moment. For crying out loud Vishna, your people have waited for centuries. Surely, a few more years won't matter.'

'Among the many good trades the Vampire Community possesses I am afraid to mention patience is not considered one of our virtues. Some are already beginning to suggest an alternative route to obtain our objectives.'

Hermione sighed. 'Can't you explain to those impatient, no doubt, murdering idiots that that approach will destroy them? I can't perform miracles, Vishna. Timing is of the essence here.'

'Then explain it to me, Hermione, because honestly, I do not see how you living here in Bulgaria helps our cause. This is not the country you can become Minister of Magic in.'

'This, however, is Viktor's country,' said Hermione. 'It is why I am currently living here.'

'Viktor Krum, pfftt… Mind explaining that mistake to me as well,' Vishna said, snorting disparagingly.

'He is the father of my child.'

'Please, I love Rose; but don't bring that visual in my head, Granger. Fortunately, the girl takes after you and not the Quidditch Idiot. If you ask me, he has taken one Bludger to the head too many.'

Hermione shook her head. 'You really don't see the advantage I gain by having Viktor Krum at my side?'

'No, I fail to see how someone who can't add two and two together, yet continues to insist upon showing everyone his ignorance by flooding the world with faulty Arithmancy Theses, can be an advantage to anyone or anything.'

'You need the Dracul Order to switch their vote in the Vampire Council. Otherwise we're both screwed anyway. Viktor is from this part of Europe-'

'Oh please, Vlad and Elizabeth will eat him for breakfast. They don't care what the likes of him have to say, even if he was born in Transylvania, which he is not.'

'I wasn't talking about him swaying them. I will do that myself. I need Viktor to convince the Wizarding Community. The Dracul Order has caused many casualties in this part of Europe and I am from England, as you so unnecessarily reminded me a few moments ago. I cannot go around telling the people of Transylvania and its surrounding countries that a peace treaty with the Dracul Order is something they need to sign. It would be highly inappropriate, ineffective, and no doubt, unsuccessful for me to do so; but they will listen to him. The Krums are a well-known and respected political family throughout these parts of Europe. They are famous for their continued resistance towards vampires and dark wizards. They fought Gellert Grindelwald and Lord Voldemort in the past.'

'So did the Weasleys and they have family living in Transylvania instead of a neighbouring country,' Vishna interrupted. 'Surely, that Ronald fellow would have been a far more suitable and interesting partner for you. I mean I understand, considering you're asking us to help you break that blood bond, that Riddle is out of the question. Besides, he would not be a politically sound option. I can just imagine the field day the press would have once they figure out his real identity. But I sincerely doubt this idiot you've married can convince a starving man to eat a loaf of bread.'

'Well, that is where you are wrong. It's all politics, Vishna, politics. Have you ever seen Viktor in action with a group of strangers? People simply adore him – the best Seeker ever. He's their hero. They don't care if he is speaking nonsense. I sometimes wonder if they even hear it. Ronald is way too blunt to work a crowd. He misses a certain subtlety.'

'Good for him,' Vishna said approvingly.

'Yes, but not good for your bloody cause or for my chances of getting elected in the first place,' Hermione responded, annoyed.

Vishna stared at her.

'What?' Hermione snapped.

'You've changed,' he replied. 'The girl I met so many years ago would not have settled for less merely to obtain an objective.'

'I did not settle for Viktor. He is a kind and loving man, who does not try to possess me. I care for him greatly.'

'You _care_ for him,' Vishna responded with a clear undertone in his voice.

'Yes,' Hermione said, irritated. 'You don't believe that?'

'Oh, I believe that. It's just … _care_ is not the first word I think a woman should use when she is speaking of her husband and the father of her child. You've become quite the manipulator, haven't you? I can't help but wonder how much of those skills you are using on me right now.'

'If I recall correctly, it is due to your demands I have to use those skills at the moment,' Hermione rebutted. 'And I will expect you to keep your end of the bargain as well.'

'We vampires take great pride in honouring our word. I cannot say the same about wizards and witches.'

'Pfftt…,' Hermione spat. 'Vampire pride and honour. Do not mistake me for a fool, Vishna. I know the excuses you've used to break your word in the past.'

The vampire blinked, but did not respond to Hermione's accusation.

'I have the information, the skill, and the item you require to break the blood bond between you and Tom Riddle. I believe you know you won't find anyone else capable of helping you with that or you would not have turned to me. I've asked for one favour in return and I have given you loads of time to achieve it already. However, I can't wait forever, Hermione. It's like I said before, we vampires are not known for our patience. If you do not make a move soon, one I find is directed towards obtaining our objectives, I will have no other choice but to switch my vote to support Prince Vlad's option. And I believe you understand what that will mean to the Wizarding Community you hold so dear.'

'Now, who is manipulating who?' Hermione softly stated.

'I say we are bargaining over the timetable. You want to be free from Voldemort's influence as soon as possible, and I want peace and better opportunities for my people in that same speed. I will obtain my objective one way or the other, Granger. Whether you obtain yours along the way is up to you. Now, I suggest you move back to England. A year from now there will be another election and I look forward to shake the hand of the youngest Minister of Magic ever.'

'And if I lose those elections because of my age?'

'I will go for option number two. I have had enough of it, Hermione, listening to report after report after report of vampire slayings and not being able to do a thing about it. It will end soon. I would prefer it to be peacefully, but I take a war if I can't get that. However, there is something that puzzles me.'

'Pray tell.'

'When you came to us, you seemed eager to lift that blood bond quickly. I remember clearly all the in-depth magical investigations you performed, the people you visited. Why are you now, all of the sudden, dragging your feet?'

'I am not dragging my feet. I am being realistic.'

'I'm just asking, because if you changed your mind about Riddle, then we could make a diff-'

'I haven't changed my mind,' Hermione hissed. 'I need this connection broken or I'll never be certain of anything in my life, _ever_.'

'Hmmm…'

Vishna looked at her thoughtfully, a slightly curious expression on his face. His lip curved up for a brief second. Sometimes, Hermione didn't get the reactions of the vampire at all. It was like he had information about her she lacked. He'd helped her out a million times now, but there was always this little nagging voice inside her head, warning her about possible ulterior motives.

Vishna reached into his pocket and held out a newspaper to her silently.

Hermione frowned and accepted it curiously. When she unfolded it, she quickly recognised the bold print as belonging to the Daily Prophet. The huge headline about the latest philanthropic deed of Saint Riddle made her scowl, and she crumbled the paper together when she saw who wrote said article.

'Stupid Skeeter,' Hermione sneered.

'Maybe it's not Skeeter who's being stupid,' Vishna suggested softly.

'Not you too,' she replied tiresomely.

Vishna shrugged. 'There hasn't been any indication Riddle chose the same path as before, and he has had plenty of opportunities by now.'

'No indication,' Hermione said with a snort. 'Surely, you're not _**that**_ gullible. You've lived for centuries. Don't tell me you haven't paid better attention. It's like Charles Baudelaire stated, "The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist."'

'Good ol' Charlie has said some other interesting things about evil as well,' Vishna grinned. 'I don't hear you quoting those. Because they're not up your alley?' he taunted.

'Has?' she inquired, frowning. The man was long dead.

'Vamp,' Vishna explained shortly. 'You'd like him or…' –he tilted his head questioningly– 'you'd stake him. Probably, the latter.' He sniggered. 'Anyway, I am not saying Riddle hasn't crossed a line or two, but neither have you.' He gave her a knowing look. 'So maybe you two are-'

'What?' Hermione snapped. She was getting thoroughly irritated by the vampire and his stupid suggestions.

'She who protests…'

'Hold your tongue, old man, or I will cut it out,' Hermione said coldly, and a red gleam was briefly visible in her eyes.

Vishna watched her calmly. 'Like I thought, you might need the Knot sooner than you think, Hermione. Until then, I suggest you control those impulses. You have one year, Minister.'

_Crack_.

And Hermione sat alone on the bench, feeling quite agitated and ready to blow up the next vampire that had the nerve to walk through the gate. She swirled to her feet and stalked back to the manor.

'How did it go with Vishna?' Viktor asked when she re-entered the bedroom.

Upon seeing her face, he already knew the answer. 'That well, eh?' he added.

Hermione nodded and changed back into her pyjamas before she crawled underneath the covers.

'Do you think I could get away with killing every single one of those conniving, bloodsucking, impatient idiots?' she asked rhetorically. 'They want me to run for Minister of Magic now. Now! I am only thirty-four, but Vishna thinks I can get elected. He has lost his mind completely.'

'Actually,' Viktor said cautiously, 'he might not be mistaken.'

'What?' Hermione said, surprised. 'You agree with him?'

'I've been looking at the political landscape in the UK for quite some time now. And we could never have run against Kingsley Shacklebolt and his impeccable reputation, but he announced that he will be retiring after this year. So, at the moment, there is a significant void in available qualified candidates.'

'I am thirty-four,' Hermione repeated.

'I know and normally I would agree with you that for this post your age would be too huge a hindrance, but I think with the current political climate it won't matter. Shacklebolt's administration is exceptionally popular. However, he has no successor. You could become that, but we will have to move fast before people ask Harry Potter to take the job, because we sure as hell can't run against him.'

'Harry has no interest in politics,' Hermione replied, dismissing that insane suggestion.

'Maybe not, but I doubt he would back away from the responsibility when called upon. And I'd rather use him in our campaign.'

'You've been planning the campaign already?' asked Hermione, and she snorted.

Nothing ever changed in the Krum family. She wouldn't be surprised if he had already asked his sisters Victoria and Angela to start polling on her candidature and the major issues.

'Yeah, I have. Care to see the outcome of our polling data?' Viktor asked, excited.

Hermione chuckled. She certainly knew her husband. She watched how he summoned a clipboard and held it out to her enthusiastically.

'The numbers can't possibly be that good,' Hermione muttered, unsure of Viktor's cheerfulness.

Viktor merely raised his eyebrows mischievously. 'If you say so,' he replied happily.

Hermione quietly read the data of the polling bureau Victang, and when she was finished, she laid down the clipboard and placed her hands underneath her chin, contemplating.

Viktor watched her expectantly. 'Well?' he asked, eager for a reply.

'Interesting outcome,' Hermione mused, 'those numbers…' –she shook her head– 'they must be-'

'-a polling error?' Viktor finished. 'That's what I said to Angela when she called me about them. But this isn't the first poll and the outcomes remain steady. By the looks of it, you could win the next election easily. Not even Grogan Stump had this many supporters in the UK, and he was the most popular Minister of Magic your country ever had. All we need to do is not botch up things during the campaign.'

Hermione snorted at the concept. She had been a part of several Krum election campaigns; the ones of the uncle and aunt, who both ran for senator, and the one from the niece, who had become a district Governor. Viktor was born and raised into a political household. His grandmother had been Minister of Magic in Bulgaria for three decades and both his parents had been involved in every election. You could say a lot of things about the Krums, but one thing was for certain, they knew how to run a smooth and professional campaign. It was why their bureau Victang was the most wanted campaign management bureau in the whole world.

Hermione sighed and sat back against her pillow, placing her hands underneath her head. 'I'm not certain we can do this now,' she said thoughtfully. 'Rose… I don't know.'

'Rose is old enough,' said Viktor calmly. 'I understand what you're saying, Hermione.'

Hermione shook her head. There was so much at risk here. Moving back to the UK meant staying in one place for a long time. The ancient Mayan Charm she'd discovered in a hidden magical sanctuary in Honduras had made it impossible for Riddle to track her, which up until now meant relative safety for her husband and daughter. They were hardly ever home, so Tom'd had no luck catching them there. Hermione had seen people spying around their mansion, but it had been relatively easy to confund them into believing the house was empty. However, she had recognised Tom's handiwork on a couple of occasions during their travels. Still, she'd managed to evade him and she was certain he had not got a glimpse of them personally. In the UK, however, it would be a whole different ballgame.

And she felt slightly selfish she was doing this to Viktor. She had held Ron at arm's length, because she cared too much about him and didn't want to go to his funeral. But at least Ron knew whom Tom Riddle was. Viktor had no idea whom he was up against. He knew she was on the run from some dark wizard, but he had no idea it was Lord Voldemort, and she couldn't tell him. Viktor would alert the authorities, of that she was sure. Tom's and her life-force were too interconnected – she didn't dare risk his life before she'd broken that damned bond. From a security point of view, going to the UK was the worst thing she could do. It would be impossible to avoid Riddle there.

On the other hand, if she didn't do this, the wizarding world would be thrown in a full scale war with the vampires, and then, there wouldn't be a single safe haven in the world. She nudged the wall with the back of her head repeatedly. She would have to juggle so many balls in the air. One was bound to come crashing down on her head.

'I'll write Harry we'll be coming home,' she finally decided.

'Yes,' said Viktor victoriously. 'I'll contact Victoria and Angela that we'll need them.'

And he jumped out of bed.

'Honey, it is five a.m.,' Hermione said, shocked.

'Ah, I can't sleep anymore.'

'Well, maybe they can. You can't possibly wake your sisters at this hour.'

'Trust me, when it comes down to this campaign, I can wake them in the middle of the night.'

'And you can do that often enough once we've announced our candidature,' Hermione mumbled disapprovingly at the figure that vacated the bedroom.

She knew full well that once a campaign started, the people managing it hardly got any good night's rest at all. And she decided there was no reason whatsoever for her not to get a bit of sleep right now. She snuggled further underneath the warm and soft covers and made herself comfortable, pushing the guilty feelings aside. She'd have enough time to worry about Tom Riddle once she got to the UK. She dozed off quickly.

xXxXx

'Hermione! Hermione!' yelled Harry.

'It was his voice, wasn't it? It couldn't be,' Hermione thought, confused.

But someone shook her rather persistently. 'Knock it off,' she muttered.

She was certain she saw a telltale silver flash. But that was impossible. Those books were destroyed after all. Still, the thought bothered her severely, and she opened her eyes. The world spun. How come every muscle in her body hurt so much? She hadn't strained a single one of them while fighting Vishna's men. She finally regained her focus and…

Shocked, she looked around. She was outside. How did she get here?

Hermione scrambled to her feet. She was surrounded by trees and bushes. The sun desperately tried to break through the dense roofing of leaves, but it seemed unable to do more than provide the area with enough lighting for Hermione to check her appearance in. She looked horrific. Her clothes were torn and stained with blood, though the blood didn't appear to be hers. She quickly checked herself, but apart from some minor cuts and bruises she was fine.

Where were Rose and Viktor?

Suddenly, she heard noises in the distance. Hermione pulled out her wand and proceeded in that direction. Perhaps she could get some answers as to what happened from whoever was out there. She didn't have to walk long. The sun became brighter and brighter when she reached a clearing. All of a sudden, she knew where she was, but she couldn't possibly be here.

She ran the last bit, and her eyes fell on the remains of Hagrid's hut. The Hogwarts' Castle appeared damaged, yet again. And all among the fields around the castle, there lay bodies, dead bodies, everywhere. This couldn't be.

Hermione walked around them in a daze. She saw Neville, Hannah, Minerva, Ron, Ginny, …Harry!

She ran to him and fell down on her knees. Grabbing Harry by his shoulders, she shook him; but his eyes were empty, devoid of all light and kindness that used to be in them.

How was that possible? He had just called out to her. She was certain she had heard him before. How could he be dead if he called out her name?

She looked around devastated. What on earth had happened?

It was when she heard a noise, two male voices talking not far away from her. They were hidden from view due to the Whomping Willow, but she recognised Vishna's voice. Vampires, vampires did this? Vishna would condone a massacre like this?

She clutched onto her wand, and slowly, peeked around the large tree, making sure to stay out of range of its punching branches. Her breath got stuck in her throat when she saw him standing there. The old vampire prince she considered a friend. Vishna Vasuki was covered in blood and he talked animatedly to another vampire, whom was none other than Prince Vlad. She recognised him from the Dracul emblem on his cloak. A third vampire stood with his back to her. The two vampire princes started laughing. It disgusted Hermione. They laughed, while standing in a field of dead bodies – her friends' dead bodies.

_Well, there were only three of them._

She had no idea who the third one was, since his hood was up and his cloak obscured any possibility to identify him, but she sure as hell could take down three vampires, princes or not, no questions asked. Hermione stepped to the side into plain view, her wand raised. Vlad and Vishna stopped laughing and looked straight at her. Her first curse hurtled to Vlad.

'There she is!' shouted Vishna, smirking when Vlad had to dive to the ground quickly. 'My Lord.'

She froze upon hearing the use of that title. _No!_

Her eyes whirled to the third individual she had not identified yet and he swirled around. The motion caused his hood to drop and she stared into a pair of livid scarlet, slit-pupil eyes, whose ferocious gaze seemed even more prominent in that white, snakelike face of his. It was the Lord Voldemort of her past, not Tom.

She squeezed her eyelids together and shook her head a couple of times, because she was certain her eyes were playing tricks on her. However, when she opened them again the panorama had remained unchanged. Well, there was this minor, insignificant, tiny, little detail that had altered. Voldemort had raised his wand and his curse was already on route toward her. A small smile graced his features when the jet of red light hit her dead on, and everything turned black around her, as she crashed to the ground, unconscious.

xXxXx

'Hermione - Hermione? Rise and shine, dear!'

She opened her eyes and screamed her lungs out, when she saw Vishna staring at her.

'Granger?' he asked, concerned, and he looked back at the door. 'I used a Sound Deadening Charm, but my god, that scream could wake the dead.'

Hermione sat up straight, still shaking inside. Confused, she watched her environment. She was inside her bedroom and perspired heavily. Her pyjama was thoroughly soaked. It was a nightmare. Thank Merlin, it was a nightmare. A very vivid nightmare, _again_. She had a lot of those lately. It made her feel ominous, like she was missing something – something of the size of the vital clue of the mystery novel.

_Something wicked this way comes._

'That must have been one nasty dream,' Vishna said, eyeing her dishevelled appearance up and down.

'You could say that,' Hermione said hoarsely, still haunted by the visuals of the dead people, as she looked up at Vishna. 'You know I had a vivid nightmare like this before. It involved a dark wizard, a magic school, and lots and lots of Fiendfyre. I got killed in that dream, and later on, I experienced that dream for real.'

'And because you dreamt about it, you escaped,' Vishna speculated.

'No, I hadn't taken the dream seriously enough to take precautions. I escaped, because someone else cheated and made a few changes in time.'

'Time is not something to trifle with, Hermione,' Vishna warned.

'Preaching to the choir, here, Vishna, preaching to the choir.'

'I hope so, because the consequences of time-tampering can be extremely harsh and if the others find you screwing around with time again, they may get into action.'

'Are you ever going to tell me why you vampires are so adamantly against time-travel?'

'Well,' Vishna started, his eyes twinkling deviously, 'I could give you the information, but then, I'd have to bite you for real and turn you into a creature of the night.'

Hermione stuck out her tongue. 'I am not that curious.'

'Lucky you. Well, perhaps this time around, you can take some precautions. I hope it had nothing to do with our little enterprise, because you know how superstitious we vampires are.'

'No, you were not involved,' Hermione lied casually.

'Splendid, then we still are good to go. I trust the Krum crowd downstairs means you're off to Britain for an election?' asked Vishna, curiously.

'Yes, I am,' said Hermione.

Vishna rubbed his hands together and gave her a beaming smile. 'Wonderful, wonderful, everything is going to turn out as it should,' he muttered. 'Now, if you would be so kind and wake up Rose, I will be off to tell her a fabulous vampire tale.'

Hermione looked at her alarm. It was already nine o'clock in the morning. 'You can go in there yourself. I'm certain Rose won't need wakening and since she's expecting you, her curtains will be closed. She probably is wondering what's keeping you.'

'All right,' said Vishna cheerfully, and he straightened his cloak and left to see Rose.

Hermione watched the tall vampire leave with a doubtful expression on her face. This time around she couldn't take her dream so lightly. Vlad, Vishna and Voldemort, it was the deathliest of combinations.

A combination that made no sense whatsoever.

Prince Vishna had always firmly opposed Lord Voldemort in the past. And Prince Vlad and Vishna barely were able to walk through the same door together without it turning into a full scale brawl. Sure, it was common knowledge that the Dracul Order had been strong Voldemort supporters in the past. So, Vlad and Voldemort was easily explained. But how could Vishna possibly fit into this picture? It made absolutely no sense at all.

And then, there was the little issue of Riddle turning into that again, because it couldn't have been the other one – he was dead. Hermione growled and rubbed through her hair in frustration.

_Fine, an__other ball that needs juggling,_ she thought resentfully. _Fortunately, I don't dream about things that could become actual big problems. This only requires some minor precautions. It's not like those three could cause some actual mayhem. Things are definitely lightening up. _

'Time to owl Harry I'm going home, and oh, that my new name is Hermione Trelawney,' she muttered sarcastically on her way to the shower. 'Now where is the sherry?'


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's note:** I just wanted to tell those readers who left reviews at the old version that I really appreciated them. I still have all of the old reviews in my email-box, and they have been very helpful in helping me improve the story during this rewrite. Although, I can't work every comment into this version, I did take each and every one of them under consideration and I hope you will all enjoy how the story progresses. Rest assure, those chapters which held those bits I believe everyone was enthusiastic about will return. *winks*

Now, I'd like to thank those who read and reviewed the last chapter (and your comments are also being considered and very much appreciated): StarzAngelus, Angelic Fanfic Writer, GoldenTresses91, Ilovenat1995, Rosiline, Jen103, BlueSkyHeaven, Lothloric, Bene Elim, Noon's Phoenix, Patie, Shinobinaraku, Siddyi, Medusaasaphoenix, ZarinaRiddle, and Blindfaithoperadiva.

xXxXx

Special thanks to _**Serpent In Red **_for going over my spelling and correcting my sometimes weird mind, which has the ability to choose the wrong word at the wrong place for no good reason at all. *gigglesnort* Any errors are mine and mine alone.

xXxXx

* * *

**Masters of manipulation: part 2**

**Chapter Three**

'I'll try to be back before dinner,' Hermione said, kissing her husband on his cheek.

'No hurry, take your time with the real-estate lady. Rose and I are going to the amusement park and you know how hard it is to drag her away from the dragons,' Viktor replied, grinning at her from behind his bowl of cereal.

'Try not to let her bring one along this time,' she warned.

'Yeah, we wouldn't want the authorities knocking on our door now,' he jested. 'It would give Angela a heart attack.' Dramatically, he gestured with his hand. 'How could you let this happen, Viktor? Don't you know I am trying to start a campaign here? Don't you know how this will look in the papers? You've been totally irresponsible, and who do you think will have to clean up your mess as usual? Me—ME!' He ended his little enactment with his hand slapping on his chest as Angela did during moments such as these.

Hermione laughed out loud and Viktor leaned back in his chair satisfied, smiling at her with care. Her laugh died out abruptly, and her face turned serious. 'You know, I was thinking,' she said hesitantly.

'Oh?'

'Yeah, I could just take a condo in London, and you and Rose–'

'–could stay here in Bulgaria?' Viktor finished, amused. 'That would not only make Angela explode, but I think Victoria would–'

'This isn't about your sisters or about an election,' she hissed, shaking her head. 'I am—I am…' She took a breath. 'I am being selfish. You don't have to do this, Viktor.'

'And I already told you,' he said, rising from his chair and walking to her, 'that I would do whatever you needed,' he grabbed her by her upper arms and looked down seriously.

'It's too dangerous,' Hermione whispered, not meeting his eyes.

'Like it was for you when you got those vampires off of Angela and me?' Viktor reminded her. 'There were a dozen of them and you didn't hesitate for a second. You saved my life. You saved my sister's life. I owe you, Hermione. And I am not backing down on my promise just because you're getting cold feet all of the sudden. Now, go find us a house in the UK, preferably with some land if you can?'

He turned away from her as if that was the end of the conversation. She grabbed his arm. He looked back down with a smile when she leaned to him on her toes and kissed his cheek. 'You're too good for me, Viktor.'

'I know,' he joked casually, watching her spin on the spot and Disapparate.

He stared at the empty spot for a long time before taking a Muggle phone and dialling the unlisted number that seemed to belong to no one. He'd checked, but he had no clue who was really on the other end of the line.

'Marscha, it's Viktor again. I need you to narrow your search to the UK.'

'Are you sure this time, Viktor? I spent ages in Greece, coming up with absolutely nothing last time you had a hunch.'

'I am positive. In Greece, Hermione was suddenly in a hurry to leave, so I think you may have just missed him by the time you got there. But she has never been so concerned about us going anywhere before. He must be living in the UK.'

'Viktor, if you could get me a name or any description to go on that would be far more helpful. I am looking for a needle in a haystack. Do you have any idea how many dark wizards there are in the world? You don't have the funds to have me Avada them all.'

'I have tried, Marscha, believe me, I have tried; but she won't budge. However, seeing she left the UK after getting her N.E.W.T.'s and never went back except for the Potter wedding and their children's christening, I believe I am right.'

'She only went to James's christening. I checked and she was invited to the other two's, but never showed up.'

'What?' Viktor snapped, freezing in his motion of rubbing his beard. 'I knew it. Whoever he is, he is there. She'd never stand up Harry, unless it was for something really serious.'

'Yeah, well… without anything to go on, I can walk past every wizard in the country and…'

'Look into former Death Eaters or anyone that hasn't been caught. She left right after You-Know-Who's death.'

'Come on, Viktor. We're talking about Hermione Granger. I've met her. The woman scares the shit out of me. Do you really think she'd be on the run for some flunky?'

_She'd met Hermione? _

'I don't know, but the timing is odd,' he replied, wondering when, where, and why Marscha would ever have met Hermione and if he should be concerned about that, too.

'Potter himself told me she left to go see her parents and that, after their meeting, she decided to travel the world. It's more likely she met someone dangerous on her travels, who took an interest in her considerable capabilities.'

Viktor sighed. 'I know what you're saying sounds plausible, Marscha, but you didn't see her just now. She feels guilty about dragging me into this, and that guilt started to surface right after the notion of us moving to the UK became a fact. I want you to look into it.'

'Fine,' he heard her say rather snappishly on the other end of the line, 'it's your money.'

'Yes, it is.'

'I'll call you back if I find something of interest,' Marscha replied with a tired sigh at the end of the sentence, clearly indicating she didn't think she'd find anything useful. 'Though, it would be nice if you could get at least something from your wife for me to go on.'

'Can't do that. She'd get suspicious if I fish too long and _you_ can't use that, can you?'

'If the authorities become aware of me over this assignment, Krum, _you _can't use that,' Marscha threatened right back. 'You'd be the easiest kill I've ever made.'

'But you don't work without getting paid, Marscha.'

'I can make an exception for once.'

'Find and get rid of that dark wizard, and I'll double your bonus fee.' A satisfied grin erupted on his face when the other party went silent after hearing that.

'Daddy, Daddy, are we going to go now?' Rose yelled from the hallway, excited. She ran in with her coat already on and her backpack strapped on.

He pressed his hand on the phone's microphone the second he heard Rose's voice. 'Did you take your pills?'

'Yeah, yeah, Mummy left them on my nightstand. And I already ate two sandwiches and drank my milk before you got up,' she informed him, bouncing on her feet.

'Your emergency potion in case you get sick?'

'Is in my bag,' Rose said, rolling her eyes tiresomely. 'But there could be vampires at the park if I need help,' she said, excited at the thought.

'It's broad daylight, Rose.'

'If they stay out of the sun, they won't burn,' Rose rebutted, glancing annoyed at the window through which the bright rays of sunlight entered the dining room.

'The park is outdoors and the weather forecast is bright and sunny for the whole day. I don't think we'll see any vampires today, dear,' he replied carefully.

He was sorry to disappoint Rose, but kept his fingers crossed they really wouldn't. Rose was used to the relatively harmless vampires of the Vasuki Clan. In these regions, it was more likely they'd run into a Dracul and that was never good news for one's health. He pointed with his finger to the horn, and Rose nodded, zipping her lips with her hands. He turned his attention back on the silent woman at the other end of the line.

'Marscha?' Viktor inquired in the horn.

'I'll see what I can do,' Marscha replied business-like.

The line went dead, and Viktor smiled. There was nothing like a little extra money to motivate an assassin.

'Okay, Rose, let's go.'

'Yay!' the girl cheered, taking his hand. He let her drag him to the hallway. 'I want to see a Hungarian Horntail.'

_Of cours__e s__he would pick the most lethal one out there_.

xXxXx

Crack.

Two shadowy figures Apparated into the Vale of Glamorgan. It should have been broad daylight, but it almost seemed like the night had fallen already due to the immensely bad weather. Bellowing clouds soared above them, threatening to unleash their load, but so far, it had remained dry. Though in the distance, a soft thundering noise indicated a storm was approaching. The cliff-ridden coastline and the beautiful sandy beach below had lost their appeal to both tourists and natives, because the waves pounded relentlessly at the shore, and as the wind bellowed around the two men, their cloaks flared up in the air.

A sudden, extreme, violent brush made the tiny bloke of the two shriek when his purple hat blew away. He ran after it, but the wind swirled and swayed. Every time he almost caught it, the hat took another dive into a different direction.

Laughter sounded through the air, coming from his taller companion, who watched the show, amused.

After another failed attempt, the tiny fellow stopped and leaned forward; his hands rested on his knees. He panted from the unusual slow exercise he was unaccustomed to. He watched his hat, which was mocking him by lying still on the ground a few feet away from him. No doubt it would fly away the moment he started moving. Irritated, he glared at his laughing partner, but he didn't need or want his help. He could certainly manage to do this without magic.

He quickly looked around. There was no one in sight. No one would see.

And, within moments, he moved at incredible speed. So fast that if someone had been there to witness the event, they would have thought they'd blinked and missed the movement. The tiny bloke triumphantly pushed the hat back on his head a lot firmer than before and walked over to the other man, whom was definitely snickering now.

'Blasted weather,' grumbled the purple hat man.

'You'd rather have a clear day with lots of sunshine, Michael?' his companion responded ironically. 'Besides, I believe Boreas,' and he raised his hands up to the sky in adoration of the god of wind, 'tried to do you a favour. You'll never get a woman to go out with you as long as you wear that bird's nest on your head.'

'Lisa always said she loved my hat,' Michael said grudgingly.

'Lisa left.'

'Fine, mock my hat all you want, Gerard. At least I don't colour-coordinate the clothes inside my wardrobe.'

'Perhaps if you did, you would get some fashion sense. Those blue baggy jeans are so passé,' Gerard said, sighing.

He wouldn't mind giving Michael's name to the "_a queer vampire eye on the straight vampire guy"_ show. They'd certainly love to get their hands on him. Michael was definitely a disaster area when it came to looks, and he could certainly use a complete make-over. It was no mystery to Gerard why women always ran hard in the opposite direction when Michael came around the corner. And it had nothing to do with his fangs.

However, Michael was also very skilled with his knives, and Gerard didn't fancy being on the receiving end of one of those tips, so he had refrained from the urge; but it had been hard, very hard.

Gerard was the exact opposite from Michael. Michael was a Muggle vampire, while Gerard had always been a wizard one. Michael was a short stature, small, mousy-haired, in a beady-eyed common face, deceivingly unimpressive-looking vampire. Gerard was tall, broad, handsome, and his hair began to become grey with strands of black in them instead of the other way around. He had considered dying it, but his partner Jerome liked the colour. Said it made him look distinguished, so he kept it the way it was. And due to his impressive build, Gerard only had to walk into a room for people to take notice of him.

Where Michael was sloppy and careless, Gerard was impeccably neat and precise in all areas. He always dressed himself in the finest and most expensive clothes, becoming the perfect example of a gentleman, and many women had been disappointed that Gerard turned out to be one of those too-cute-to-be-straight fellows. Still, despite the obvious differences between the two men, they'd remained friends for centuries.

And for now, the two friends stood at the top of the cliff silently. Michael still clutched to his ugly hat when Gerard began to complain about the lack of proper etiquette their appointment displayed by being so thoroughly late.

Michael grinned. He knew Gerard was quite anal in his timetables and hated it when someone disturbed his precious preset schedule. 'So, Betty didn't say whom we are supposed to meet out here?' he asked again.

'No,' replied Gerard, shortly.

Michael knew perfectly well the Countess hadn't told him a thing. It was most annoying, because now, he didn't know whom he had to curse for arriving so bloody late. And if this waiting had to continue any longer, the storm would break loose and his clothes would be ruined. He couldn't have that. Whoever it was, he or she'd better have a damn good explanation for keeping him waiting. He was utterly bored to his fangs. He needed some distraction, something to look forward to.

'I dare you to call Bárthory Betty to her face,' Gerard eventually said, having found something that could entertain him in the near future.

Michael snorted. 'Is that a Vampire Bet you're throwing at me?'

'Well, I believe it is, dear Michael,' Gerard said in a mock sweet voice. 'Do you accept?'

'I most certainly do,' answered Michael, daringly. 'You are so going to lose this one, and you know what I will ask in return.' He rubbed his hands together in sheer anticipation of his revenge.

'You are so dead. The Countess will tear you apart. I can't lose this bet even if I do,' Gerard said, hoping it would scare Michael off and he would win his bet. Then, he could send the vamp on the make-over he so desperately needed. 'Now, what is keeping this so-called emergency appointment of ours?' continued Gerard, and he whipped out his wand. 'I'm going to curse him or her to the sun and back again when–'

Crack.

A sway of black cloak Apparated before them. The two vampires stared in astonishment at the dark figure that approached them, before sharing a rather shocked sideways glance among themselves. Quickly, Gerard retrieved the letter from his jacket and handed it over quietly. The man accepted it, glanced at the writing on the envelope briefly, and Disapparated away without having said a single word. They both let out a relieved breath.

'You big baby,' Michael finally said, giving him a condescending glance.

'What? I didn't hear you doing any talking,' retorted Gerard, equally dismissive.

'I'm going to curse him to the sun and back again,' mocked Michael, repeating his previous promise. 'Pok, pok, pok, pok,' and he flapped his arms with his hands underneath his armpits, while circling around Gerard.

'Oh, shut up,' replied Gerard, annoyed.

'You should have seen the look on your face when you saw it was him; priceless. And the way you so bravely held on to your wand without so much as moving it an inch … wow, you really showed him for being late. He'll never dare do that again.' And Michael roared with laughter.

'Laugh all you want, but I don't think this is funny at all. This is going to become…,' but Gerard couldn't finish his sentence and watch his friend with a deep frown of concern on his face.

'Oh, come on, Ger. Remove that stake from your chest. There is nothing we ordinary vampires can do to change events such as these, so no point in worrying over it. Let's just get out of here, before the storm breaks free. Please.'

Gerard grabbed a hold of his friend and wanted to spin them on the spot, when he saw something very unusual happening in the ocean below. Perhaps even the answer to his concerns.

'Do you think Vlad knows the Countess is sending messages to Riddle?'

Michael looked up, confused. 'Why, no idea. How come?'

Gerard nodded down to the ocean and Michael stretched his neck to look over his shoulder. He blinked when he saw Hermione Granger, standing in the waves, together with a woman he didn't know.

'Oh no, Ger, no, no, no. Bad idea,' he warned, looking up at his friend in concern.

'She might be the way out for Vlad,' Gerard responded crafty. 'I'll have to talk to him.'

'Ger, please don't go there, I beg of you. Betty has never done anything without his consent and Vlad will never listen to you anyway. You know how he feels about you, and if Riddle finds out, you'll be—' but the rest of Michael's words got drowned in the familiar sound of Apparition.

xXxXx

Crack.

A large wave crashed into her, soaking her clothes from the waist down. Hermione sighed when she saw where the real-estate agent had Apparated them into. They stood in the ocean, and she was pretty certain she wanted her new house to be dry and land-based.

'Oops, this isn't it,' the woman muttered red-faced.

_No kidding._

'What was your destination?' asked Hermione blankly, while another wave tumbled against her.

'The Vale of Glamorgan,' Miss Young replied embarrassed, not meeting her eyes.

Hermione turned her head around and watched the large cliffs on her right.

'Close enough,' she calmly stated, while the next wave splashed water in her face.

A strand of lightning crackled through the sky, illuminating the area and revealing the two dark figures on top of the cliff. Hermione smirked. _We must look utterly foolish standing here._

Considering the threat the lightning posed to them in the water, she didn't hesitate. Hermione grabbed the woman, spun them on the spot, and Disapparated them away to the nearest town. At the end of the day, she was completely disoriented from all the travelling around, but she had bought a new home. She'd given up already and had ditched Miss Young to go visit Harry when she spotted the for sale sign on the house right next to his. It had the appropriate amount of land that Viktor had wanted, though the growth on said land was wild and unattended to. And, despite that the house was clearly a ruin, she really liked how close it was to Harry. That would definitely make things harder for Tom. So, she had not wasted any time, had gone to the address displayed on the board, and had paid ten percent above the asking price to make sure she'd get it. The papers were signed five minutes later.

She showed the house to Viktor that evening and asked him if he needed something changed in the layout of the building. He had a couple of requests, which she wrote down, and she came back the next morning with Rose on her arm. She had already set wards around the place and stabilised the structure, right after she'd bought it.

And now, she was going to make the place liveable before others would see it from the inside and wonder how she made those changes. For a second, her mind went back to Gryffindor's writings, and she smirked.

_Well, it was a very useful theory after all. There was no need to let it completely go to waste._

Rose ran around the house and had already claimed three chambers as hers in a row.

'Okay, Rose. Have you decided on your room, yet?' asked Hermione.

Rose bit her lip and thought hard. The chamber on the first floor gave access to the biggest bedroom in the house, but the chamber in the tiny tower (though a lot smaller than all the others) still held an extreme appeal to the little girl.

'Can I have the one in the tower?' Rose asked, finally reaching a decision.

'Sure, but are you certain? It isn't very big.'

'Can't you make it bigger, Mummy? Like you did in Tokyo with my room?' asked Rose hopefully.

'No, I'm sorry, Rose. If I make that room bigger, the people outside can tell. This is a wizarding neighbourhood. And it is our little secret we can do that, remember?'

Rose nodded vigorously.

'Now, do you still want that one or do you choose another?' asked Hermione.

'I want the Vampire Princess Room,' Rose decided certain.

Hermione smiled caringly. A Vampire Princess Room. Thank you, Vishna. 'Do you remember what you need to do, Rose?'

'I have to think hard about my room, and then, you can make it as I want it to be,' Rose stated confident in her mother's abilities.

'Yes, and…?'

'I need to close my eyes and think only of my room.'

'Very good. Okay, are you ready?' asked Hermione, and she placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder.

Rose nodded, while pressing her eyelids firmly together. A big frown was visible on the little girl's face, as she envisioned on what her room should look like on the inside.

Hermione waved her wand around. A dash of gold left the tip of her wand and impacted on the nearest wall. A thundering, roaring sound emanated from the stones. The building shook, while the inner walls disappeared and reappeared elsewhere. Furniture began filling up the place, and after a minute or so, Hermione had finished changing the space to her exact requirements.

'It's done, Rose. You can go and check out your room now.'

'Yay!' Rose cheered, and she ran upstairs. The happy shriek coming from the tower made Hermione smile.

'Mum, I like my new room a lot!' yelled Rose over the barrister from the top of her voice to Hermione downstairs.

The girl turned away and a door got smashed shut after that remark before Hermione had the chance to respond. She made her way around the house to check whether everything was set in place alright. Rose's new room was the last on her list. She snorted when she saw the "Do not disturb this thirsty vampire" sign on the door. Underneath the bold letters it said in a fine print, "unless you're carrying an extremely large bottle of Haemo-Scotch or are willing to be drained to last drop."

She really needed to talk to Vishna about appropriate gifts for children.

Hermione knocked.

The incomprehensible mumbling she had heard on the other side silenced abruptly. A scratching noise and some more scuffling of furniture followed suit. Someone definitely moved stuff around. Absentmindedly, Hermione twirled her wand around, until the door opened and a dishevelled Rose became visible. She looked at the completely innocent expression on her daughter's face. It was pretty obvious Rose tried to hide something from her; but that did not disturb her, as long as it didn't involve turning her house into a zoo. Rose had a tendency to think everything was a suitable pet. Really, sometimes she reminded Hermione a lot of Hagrid.

'Is your room stable?'

'Yes, Mummy. I cast the Contro…contro…lucky…us spell and it turned green,' Rose said quickly.

'You've cast the Controspaciolumianus Charm?'

Rose nodded proudly. 'Just like you did in Tokyo.'

'Let's see it,' Hermione ordered, while walking in the room and seating herself on Rose's bed.

Rose pulled out her wand. The girl stood still, and a deep frown appeared on her face from sheer concentration. She made a small circular motion with her wand. 'Spacio!' Rose cast.

Nothing happened.

Rose narrowed her eyes at the room and tried again. 'Spacio!' she cast, raising her voice.

Triumph flashed through Rose's eyes when the jet of green-red light left the girl's wand and travelled through the room. Hermione's eyes followed the charm that slowly embedded the place and began shifting in colour, turning into a deep shade of green. The charm gave away a clear indication that the room was very stable indeed. There wasn't a single trace of red visible, which meant there was absolutely no chance of the room collapsing or anything else.

'Well done, honey,' said Hermione. 'But you remember the rules, don't you?'

'Yeah, yeah,' Rose said slightly irritated, and she recited them. 'Not showing people what I can do and not show them I have a wand, because it is not allowed.'

'Unless?'

'There is real danger,' Rose said, bored.

'And then, what do you do?'

'I cast the Isis Charm and wait for my Mummy to come kick their arses.'

'Language, Rose,' Hermione said, shaking her head, while holding in her laughter. 'Language.'

'Uncle Vishna always says that.'

'Uncle Vishna says a lot of things,' said Hermione, while getting up from the bed.

As she exited the room, a timid voice suddenly called out to her. 'Mummy?'

Hermione turned and saw an anxious face watching her.

'Now that we are in England … does—does that mean we won't be practising spells anymore?' asked Rose, worried.

Hermione smiled. 'Of course we will. We just have to be a bit more careful so nobody will notice. But why don't you go see the practise room? It's hidden in the basement.'

Rose's face immediately cleared up, and she ran past Hermione to go downstairs and investigate. Hermione watched her go with a slight twinge of concern in her stomach. She still wasn't certain whether she made the right decision by moving back to this country.

The sudden hoot of a snowy owl drew her attention away from her concerns. _Harry!_

'Hello, Angel,' Hermione said to the owl, while accepting the letter and donating an owl-treat.

She patted the owl on its head and read the dinner invitation. Harry and Ginny asked them to come over tonight if they had time with the move and all. Hermione quickly wrote down that they would be delighted to come over, and she gave the response to Angel. The owl, however, gave off no indication it was planning to leave any time soon. Hermione watched Angel confused, until she realised what caused the delay and handed the greedy owl another owl-treat.

'Really, one of these days you are not going to be able to lift off!' she shouted out after the spoilt owl.

That evening, the Krums went over to their neighbours' house for dinner. They walked the path towards the residence together when Hermione saw Harry and Ginny approaching, their children hanging back in the doorway.

Harry held out his arms widely. 'Hermione!' he said, and he hugged her senseless. 'You're finally home.'

'It's good to see you again, Harry,' Hermione said happily. 'You remember Viktor, of course.'

'How could I forget?' said Harry smiling, and he shook Viktor's hand, while Hermione said hello to Ginny.

'And you must be Rose,' Harry said to the bushy-haired girl that was the spitting image of Hermione.

Rose eyed him up and down, critically. 'Are you really Harry Potter?' she said disbelievingly, obviously expecting someone a bit more impressive.

'Rose!' Hermione reprimanded, slightly embarrassed.

It was definitely a concern of hers that Rose might have spent way too much time with vampires. After all, they had lived inside Vishna's stronghold for a long time. And vampires were simply not known for their silent and withdrawn nature. They called a spade a spade and were proud for doing so.

Fortunately, Harry laughed his lungs out about her daughter's remark. He had never cared about his fame and glory. He introduced his children to them, while Lily hid shyly behind Albus and James had already stepped forward to shake everyone's hands.

The dinner turned out quite lovely. Molly Weasley would have been so proud of her daughter.

Hermione felt it was really nice to talk to Harry and Ginny face-to-face again. Rose got along wonderfully with Lily, Albus, and James, and after dinner, the children soon left to go outside to play.

Harry shouted out after his son, James, 'No funny business!'

'No funny business?' Hermione asked Harry, slightly amused.

'Trust me,' said Harry, 'that boy is Fred and George all rolled into one single individual.'

'He is a menace,' added Ginny firmly. 'The other day he convinced Albus that you can go much faster on your broomstick if you ride it backwards. Albus came home with several broken bones and a concussion.'

'Well, Albus is a bit too trusting from time to time,' said Harry casually. 'I mean even Lily told him not to listen to James and he did it anyway.'

'Don't you go around making excuses for that boy, Harry James Potter,' Ginny said in a very Molly-like tone. 'Albus could have been gravely injured because of James's stupid suggestion. James knows that Albus wants to be as fast as you are on a broom. He wants to be a Seeker, just like his father, and James took advantage of that. You need to stop laughing every time he pulls one of his pranks. He knows you do and all the lecturing in the world won't help when you stand there smiling like an idiot. Some of those pranks really aren't funny.'

'I know, Gin, sweetie, and I'm sorry, but can we discuss this later? We have guests,' whispered Harry, while nodding his head in the direction of Viktor and Hermione who, all of the sudden, were very busy observing and critiquing the large painting on the wall to their right.

'Sure, stick your head in the sand again,' responded Ginny, annoyed. 'Just like with Riddle.'

A tense silence greeted that statement. Ginny turned her back on her husband and folded her arms in front of her. The situation turned very awkward with Harry not knowing what to say and Hermione and Viktor trying to ignore the spousal argument.

'Did we tell you Hermione is going to run for Minister of Magic?' Viktor suddenly intervened, changing the subject in a blink of an eye.

'No, you haven't,' Harry said, looking at Hermione surprised.

Ginny turned around immediately and walked to her, excited. 'When did you decide this? Oh, you have to tell us all about it,' she added. 'And if we can help, just let us know. Harry, you must convince Kingsley to support her.'

'I don't think he will need convincing,' Harry replied grinning.

So, when they left to go home later that evening, the atmosphere had cleared up considerably. Everyone was back in a good mood. Hermione looked at Viktor, while she ushered Rose up the stairs.

'Nice, subtle diversion,' she grinned.

'Well, it killed two birds with one stone. It changed the subject of the conversation, and we don't have to worry about Harry announcing he'll accept the responsibility of becoming Minister before we get a change to tell people you're running.'

'When are Victoria and Angela arriving?'

'I asked them to come over on Thursday. It gives us two days to settle down, before the gang gets here and all the peace in the world is forever lost to us.'

Hermione chuckled. 'Remember darling, you called them. I wash my hands in innocence.'

'Innocence, you? Pfftt… that'll be the day,' Viktor said snorting, before moving into the living room.

'Mummy? You promised to tell me a story,' Rose asked demandingly on the top of the stairs.

'Coming,' said Hermione and walked up the stairs, when Viktor stuck his head around the doorway.

'So, are we going to do something together tomorrow for the very last time in our entire life, now that peace will come to an abrupt end?' he asked exaggeratingly.

'I'll have to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow to restock our Potions supplies, but I am free the rest of the day,' Hermione replied, halting halfway the stairs smiling.

'Splendid, it's a date then,' Viktor decided.

'Mummy!'

'Yeah, yeah, I'm on my way, Rose. Are you all ready for bed, yet?'

'Uh-huh,' the girl nodded affirmatively.

'Brushed your teeth?'

'Do I have to?' Rose whined.

'Don't let Granny hear you,' Hermione muttered, and she added a bit louder. 'Yes, you have to. Hop … off you go.'

Rose roared with laughter when her mother's Levitation Charm threw her in the air and glided her into the bathroom.

'I am Wendy!' she shouted cheerfully. 'I am going to Neverland, and I will hex the stupid fairy, vanquish the pirates, kill Captain Hook, and live happily ever after with Peter.'

Hermione snickered—a thoroughly, new interpretation. She checked the books in Rose's room. For a moment, she pulled out The Tale of Beedle the Bard. There really should have been a sachet of lemon drops attached to it, and she smiled broadly at the memory. Now, Peter Pan … where was it?

After she finished reading a part of the story, Hermione tucked her daughter in and kissed her goodnight.

'Mummy, can I go to Diagon Alley with you tomorrow?'

'I need to get groceries, too, Rose,' Hermione warned her daughter, who pulled up her nose at that.

However, the girl was still curious about the all-wizard alley, which was filled with all kinds of magical stores. 'But I want to see it. Can I come, _pleeeaassse_?'

'Sure, but I want to hear no complaining afterwards,' said Hermione resolutely.

xXxXx

'We've located the woman, my Lord.'

Tom sighed. Why did he always have to deal with these kinds of brainless idiots?

'Really? That is some achievement,' he sneered sarcastically. 'Do you want a reward now?'

Silence greeted that statement, and his threat remained lingering in the air. It obviously wasn't the response the man expected. Ainsley watched Riddle with a mingled expression of shock, fear, and uncertainty, while Tom smiled at him broadly—the perfect portrayal of kindness and harmlessness. He clearly hoped the man would be foolish enough to answer in an affirmative manner. When Ainsley seemed to remain in a stupor, however, Tom tossed the latest edition of the Daily Prophet at his feet and broke the silence.

'Page nine,' he shortly said.

Apprehensively, Ainsley picked up to paper and opened it at page nine. His eyes immediately fell on the headline: "Famous Quidditch Player arrives in Wales".

Desperately, he scanned the Skeeter article as fast as he could. The more he read, the more he began to fret. All was revealed in there. Ainsley was surprised to see that even the location of Granger's house was mentioned, next to the famous Harry Potter. He had nothing to add. Riddle already had all the information. He was so screwed.

'What would I do without you to bring me all the wonderful information on the world, Ainsley?' snarled Tom. 'Tell me, do you have anything for me that _isn't_ already known to every single soul in this country and beyond?'

'My men have the place surrounded, Master,' Ainsley answered feebly.

'You have it surrounded,' Tom repeated, thoroughly unimpressed.

He lazily walked to the hearth in the room, positioned his hand on the stone marble rim, and stared at the flames contemplatively.

Worried he might be the next thing to burn in the room, Ainsley quickly added something else in hopes of satisfying his master. 'We tested the device while the family had dinner next door. It worked perfectly.'

Tom swirled around. 'You tested that device here,' he said quietly.

'Yes, it is working fine. The wards came down in a heartbeat,' Ainsley said upbeat again. He was very relieved he was able to give his master some good news after all and totally unaware of the danger the quietness in Riddle's voice represented.

'Of course it is working. I created it. However … I do not recall authorising its use to you in any other place than the Krum Mansion in Bulgaria,' Tom snarled menacingly. 'Care to explain to me why you thought it was a good idea to test it in this country with the Head of the Auror Department living next door to the test site?'

'I … I … I thought—_AAAHH!_'

Again with the thinking, he definitely did not need stupid initiatives like those ruining his plans. He watched the wizard writhing and twitching on the floor for a while, before lifting the Cruciatus Curse.

'Do us both a huge favour, Morty, and withdraw those morons you have working for you from the premises as soon as possible, because I will not be happy if they expose me.'

'I swear they do not know of your existence, my Lord. As you wished I have not informed them of your fortunate return.'

'And so it will remain, for now. The device?'

'My Lord?'

'Hand it over.'

Morty Ainsley pulled a small sachet from his breast pocket and gave it back to Riddle.

Tom glanced inside. Satisfied the contents were intact, he closed it again. He returned his attention back to Morty, who nervously shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

'That'll be all, Ainsley. I'll take it from here,' he said coolly. 'You're lucky I am in a good mood today.'

'Yes, Master. Thank you, Master,' Ainsley replied, bowing, while making his way out of the house fast.

Tom stood in front of the window, watching the man leave through the garden's iron gates. Morty had useful contacts in a part of the wizarding world he could not show his face in, yet. But other than that, the man was an utter fool. Now that Granger was back here, he would certainly have to become more careful.

He tossed the sachet through the air and caught it again.

However, she had made herself rather vulnerable by having a child. He'd have to think about it and his other options carefully. His previous plans were no longer useful now she was back in the UK, but he always made contingency plans from which he could proceed. He tapped with his fingers on his other hand. It would have been easier to get her to yield if she hadn't been living right next door to Potter.

Why did she have to move the very day he had found a way into Krum's house?

The window trembled when he slapped his palm against the glass in frustration. He needed to do something today to take his mind of anything Krum-related, because for the very first time in his life, he felt like grabbing a hold of a Beater's bat and use it to hit something a bit more satisfying than some stupid Bludger.

Maybe he could take a little trip to the bookstore and see if they had anything interesting to read?

It was a beautiful morning after all, nice weather to travel in or drop Vicky head-first from the highest altitude in the sky he could reach. Though, it probably wouldn't do any damage, he contemplated snidely. There was nothing substantial in the fool's head.

Really, what was Hermione doing with that moron?

He'd never thought he'd ever agree with Ron Weasley on anything, but this was it. Hell had frozen over and made him snicker with Weasley when he heard the very suitable nickname Ron had donated Krum with.

Surely, she hadn't picked _Vicky _for his looks, his magical capabilities, his mind, his fame, his money, and he could think of loads of other subjects Krum just didn't qualify for, since there were always candidates who fulfilled those requirements better.

So, why him?

Certainly, it couldn't be for the rumours he had heard about the size of Krum's equipment? A growl escaped his lips. If that were the case, he'd have the easiest remedy in the world to cure her of her Krum infatuation. He pulled on his cloak and paced out the door. He knew his temper was beginning to rise through the roof, and he needed some books to calm him down before he would blow his cover.

So, a slightly dishevelled Tom Riddle Apparated to London.

Flourish and Blotts had always been his favourite store in Diagon Alley, and now that they'd expanded by adding a few extra storeys on top of the old ones, it was an even more interesting place to be, or so Tom felt. He leaned against the bookcase behind him and pulled another book from the shelf in front of him. He skipped through the leaves, while resting his foot on the ladder that allowed access to the higher shelves.

'Mister?'

But he was already too entranced in the book to notice the little child's voice. He began reading the conclusions of the theory in the book when something or rather someone pulled on his cloak vigorously.

_Another midget, no doubt_, he thought, rolling his dark eyes to the ceiling in annoyance. _They really should have had the good sense to avoid having a children's section._

'What?' he snapped and looked down menacingly. _That usually scared them away, crying for their mothers._

'Could you move aside?' a bushy, brown-haired girl asked, unabashed.

Tom blinked. He didn't even have to ask for the identity of the girl, because she was like a little version of her mother. Could he possibly be so lucky?

He checked the pathway, and there was nobody else in sight. He was about to draw his wand when, unfortunately, the assistant manager walked around the corner and dumped a book back on the shelf, before giving him a courteous nod and walking away. Tom sighed when he saw his wonderful opportunity fly out the window. The man knew him and he hadn't spend fifteen years upholding this despicable façade to have it blown by some brat. He started reading again.

'Mister,' Rose said with clear emphasis, pulling on his cloak again.

Tom heard the soft trace of irritation that was evidently present in the girl's voice. He snorted. _Definitely takes after her mother_, he thought grinning. Rose was supposed to be her name if he remembered it correctly.

'Why?' he asked teasingly.

Rose stared at him, confounded.

So, he decided to elaborate. 'Why should I move aside?'

'You are blocking the passage,' Rose replied matter-of-factly. It was obvious from the look on her face she felt he wasn't too bright if she needed to explain that.

Tom pretended to check the floor around himself. 'So I am,' he casually said and returned his attention back to his book with a small smirk on his face.

Her annoyed growl made his eyes dart back to the girl in amusement. She stood there with her arms crossed in front of her chest, and those brown eyes of hers sparkled at him furiously. It most certainly was a familiar sight—a sight he hadn't seen in quite some time now.

'Will you get out of my way?' Rose hissed angrily.

_Oh yes, definitely the spitting image of her mother._

Tom decided to try out his most menacing gaze on the girl. The dash of red that danced through his eyes did not result in the response he'd got used to. Grown men had collapsed to their knees upon seeing that gaze, begging for his forgiveness. Other brats that had disturbed him had run away fearfully and sobbing, but this one merely gazed back.

_D__efinitely Granger's offspring. That woman should not have been allowed to procreate._

'Make me,' he said, now very entertained by the current situation.

He snorted when he felt two little hands trying to push him to the side, and he watched the quiet corridor with a wicked anticipation. Still no sign of Hermione, he was _sooooo_ looking forward to see her face when she would walk around the corner to find him standing here alone with her daughter. Unless, of course, the brat was here with the idiot she'd married.

His face darkened. He wasn't completely certain whether he would be able to keep himself under control if Krum showed up. He had to figure out who the girl was here with.

'That Muggle pushing and pulling isn't going to get you passed me,' he whispered deviously.

'I'm not allowed to do magic,' Rose replied knowingly.

'Pffttt… rules and regulations,' rebutted Tom with a dismissive wave of his hand.

'I'm going to tell my mummy you said that.'

'Your mother is here?' he asked gleefully.

'Yes, and she is going to kick you arse if you don't let me pass.'

_She's welcome to try, _Tom thought, but raised his eyebrows instead. 'Such language from such a little girl.'

'I'm not a little girl. I'm five years old,' Rose squeaked indignantly.

'My mistake.'

'Now get out of my way,' said Rose bossily.

'And for whom should I be getting out of the way?'

Rose opened her mouth to respond, but something dawned upon the little girl's face, and she closed her mouth again. 'I'm not allowed to talk to strangers.'

'Easily fixed,' replied Tom. 'If I tell you my name and you tell me yours, then we are no longer strangers.'

Rose had to think about this one, but finally she replied, 'Yes, we are.'

'No, we are not.'

'Are too.'

'Do you really think so … _Rose_?' he taunted, leaning slightly toward her.

The girl's mouth fell ajar, and she stared at him with her eyes wide open. 'I did not tell you my name. I'm going to get my Mummy and Daddy.'

'Your father is here, too?' Tom asked at the girl's back, and that unwise desire to draw his wand and kill someone was back again.

Rose turned around, and after a brief hesitation, she said, 'Yes.'

Tom watched her, smirking. 'You're not a very good liar,' he whispered.

The girl's eyes darkened considerably and she swivelled her head back and forth down the corridor. Tom saw to his utter hilarity that this five-year-old was considering hexing him. It wasn't until he heard the first syllable of the jinx that he quickly disarmed her.

'That is not a very nice jinx,' he quietly reprimanded and quirked his eyebrow at the very illegal wand that was now in his hand. So, Hermione was definitely breaking the underage wizarding laws… _interesting_.

'You're not a very nice man,' Rose retorted angrily.

'True,' said Tom shortly, and he handed the girl her wand back before stepping aside and ushering her through. 'Well, it was a … _pleasure_ meeting you, Rose,' he said smoothly, as she passed him, before he exited the row himself.

He heard her mutter something behind his back that was no doubt unflattering, though he could not decipher it. He grinned as he walked down the staircase—cheeky, like her mother. Let's see if he could find Hermione around here. He expected that she would probably be downstairs in the Arithmancy section. Tom was halfway down the staircase when he realised, he left his notebook lying in the shelf. Annoyed, he sighed, walked back, and snatched it off the stack of books it still lay on.

A blinding flash from across the corner were the children's section was located made him pause. What was that scuffling noise?

Cursing his stupid curiosity, Tom paced toward the children's section and watched what was in the corridor astonished. A very wobbly, two storeys high, tower of stools and chairs visibly swayed to all sides. On top of the tower stood Rose, trying to reach a book on the highest shelf.

Why didn't she just use…? It was when he saw the other books scattered all around on the floor, that he realised she probably had tried to summon the book, but had been unsuccessful in obtaining it.

Tom scratched his head and examined the situation—a quiet, empty corridor and a pile that didn't strike him as safe at all. It was like his thought made it happen. Rose shrieked in fright when, with a loud thundering noise, her pile collapsed.

_Hermione!_

Tom whipped out his wand, blasted the stools and chairs out of the way, swirled forward, and caught the girl in his arms. Shocked, he looked at Rose. All of his blood drained from his face when he realised that, for a brief second, he had confused her with her mother. She did look too much like her, and her scream was so similar; it had made his skin curl.

Merlin, this stupid bond made him insane. It made him do despicable good deeds. This was all Hermione's fault, her and her stupid compassion. Now Lord Voldemort caught children instead of letting them fall on their heads and laugh while it happened.

_Reflex, it was only a reflex, nothing more_—_didn't mean a thing. I am still me. I've tortured Ainsley. I enjoyed torturing Ainsley. Yes, just a reflex. _

'Thanks Mister,' Rose said cheerfully, and she looked at the book in her hand. 'I caught it just in time,' she added, holding it up triumphantly.

'Well, I hope The Little Vampire was worth almost getting killed over,' said Tom. He was still slightly irritated with himself, and remembering the books scattered on the floor, he added viciously, 'Next time, try a Summoning Charm.'

Rose looked at him, disgruntled. 'I'm not allowed to use magic,' she replied to cover up her failure.

'Yeah, so you said, but if those stools and chairs came together on their own behalf, I will eat my wand.'

'Rose!' Hermione shouted in the distance.

_Oh for Salazar's sake, now she shows up. _

He looked at the little girl, snuggled comfortably against his chest. There were so many things not right about Hermione finding him in this situation. It would ruin his reputation, and he'd never be able to make her believe he could harm her daughter to get her to yield if she knew he'd just rescued to kid from certain death. Said kid's big brown eyes (so much like Hermione's) met his, which made him begin to worry if he could actually follow through on the threat if he had to make it, because he, kind of, just a little bit, found Rose and her reactions rather ... _enjoyable_.

Quickly, he placed the girl on the ground.

'Ro-ose?' Hermione's voice sounded a lot closer now, an awful lot closer.

Knowing that he couldn't make any threats now, since Rose would undoubtedly tell her mother in detail all about what he had just done, he decided he needed to vacate the premises immediately without leaving any evidence of what had happened behind. It was when he noticed Rose looked at the mess with a concerned frown on her reddened face.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one who wasn't looking forward to Hermione finding out about this. He flashed his wand. The books returned to their respective position on the shelves. The chairs and stools repaired their damage and returned to their original place in the different corridors of the shop. Finally, everything seemed neat and tidy again, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Rose, _**no**_, the girl looked up at him, happy.

'It'll be our little secret, alright? Don't tell your mother a thing; she doesn't need to know what a mess _**you** _made,' he said slippery and winked at Rose, who nodded vigorously in agreement to that. 'Until we meet again, Rose,' he added, before he spun on the spot and Disapparated out of there in total disregard with the rules of Diagon Alley.

'There you are. Didn't you hear me call you?' Hermione said, relieved.

Rose shook her head, not meeting her eyes.

Hermione smiled. She remembered how she used to pretend not to hear her parents whenever she was in a bookshop exploring the shelves for something interesting.

Looking at the book clutched in her daughter's arms, she asked, 'Did you find a book you liked?'

'Yes,' Rose said cheerfully, and she held out The Little Vampire to her mother.

'Oh, I really liked this when I was young,' Hermione replied, flipping through the pages, surprised to find it in a wizarding store, seeing she remembered borrowing it from the Muggle library at her primary school. 'It's a very good book and the first one of the series. But the vampires are different as those you've seen, and reading about a little vampire won't make you one,' she warned her daughter. 'Is this still the book you want to have?'

Rose nodded enthusiastically.

'Okay, let's go pay for it then.'

Rose took her hand and they walked away.

'How many more books are there about the little vampire, Mummy?' Rose inquired curiously.

'Oh, quite a lot, when I went to Hogwarts there were already eight books about Rudolph, but I am sure Mrs. Sommer-Bodenburg has written more after that.' She took the book from her basket and read the list which advertised all the other volumes written by the same author. Quickly, she counted them. 'There are twenty adventures now.'

Rose's face lit up at the notion of so many more books to read and she skipped ahead of her mother in joy. Hermione placed the book back in her basket and rubbed her chin. Sometimes, she felt Rose was a little too preoccupied with vampires. With Vishna having been around most of her life, it was not strange, but…

Oh well, it was probably just a phase. She worried too much. Once Rose was older, she'd learn to understand the downsides of vampirism and ... the dangerous creatures they could be.


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's note:**I'd like to thank everyone who read and reviewed: SpeedDemon315, hatami, GoldenTresses91, BlueSkyHeaven, deathofaraven, shinobinaraku, Patie, Jen103, Noon's Phoenix, Aastha Panit, Rosiline, blindfaithoperadiva, ilovenat1995, medusaasaphoenix.

Okay, so I know the time tables are incorrect for "Vlad Dracul, Van Helsing, and Elizabetha" (seeing how my Vlad would live at their day and age), but that's because we silly Muggles don't know they actually lived far, _far_ earlier than we all think. *winks*

xXxXx

With special thanks to Serpent In Red for beta-ing this chapter.

xXxXx

* * *

**Masters of Manipulation: Part Two**

**Chapter Four**

_September first, 1938_

'Eliza Rianne Ragnor,' Professor Dumbledore called out from the scroll.

A tiny blond girl skipped to the stool. She skipped!

Mockingly, Tom snorted underneath his breath. If anyone ever saw him skipping, they were welcome to shoot him. Skipping, such a childish thing to do.

'Ravenclaw!' the Sorting Hat shouted.

Tom knew in an instance that no House that allowed any Skippers could be his. Of course he knew all about the four Houses and everything they stood for, having devoured Hogwarts: A History a mere dozen times now.

Hufflepuff was a definite no-no for him. Anyone willing to find friendship and loyalty the most important virtues needed their heads thoroughly examined according to him. Friends were useless. They dragged you down and held you back from achieving your goals in life. And the only one he needed to be loyal to was himself. No, he would find a way to burn that Hat to a crisp if it sorted him in such a despicable House as Hufflepuff.

Naturally, he would feel oblige to do the same if the Sorting Hat would place him in Gryffindor. That House was all about being brave and honourable, doing the right thing all the time. Disgusting. Tom felt that choice might be even worse than Hufflepuff.

But he had liked Ravenclaw and had seriously considered that an option, until he saw who got sorted into it.

First, that weird Lovegood fellow from the train became a Ravenclaw. He felt Ernest definitely belonged in an asylum, because Tom was pretty sure his brain wasn't wired correctly. Second, there was that whiny girl named Myrtle, who had spoilt his trip with her constant nagging about how much she missed her parents already. He had tried out a hex he had read about with success on the cry-baby when Lovegood was getting some sweets from the trolley. She had been deliciously silent the rest of the journey. And now, on top of those two morons, some cheerful skipping girl was sorted into Ravenclaw. He'd hang himself from the highest tree if he would be forced to live among the likes of them.

'Tom Marvolo Riddle,' Dumbledore said, and he peeked over his half-moon glasses with interest.

No, there was only one viable choice in Tom's mind, as he made an effort to stroll as casually to the stool as he possibly could. No one would ever see him skipping, no matter how excited he was to be here.

_That stupid, old, __Gryffindor__ rag better see things my way_, was the threatening thought that occupied his mind when he sat down on the stool.

So, naturally, the Sorting Hat never made it to his head. 'Slytherin!' it shouted in midair.

Tom smirked smugly. Perfect.

No one in the Great Hall witnessed the brief silver flash inside the Sorting Hat, while within the Chamber of Secrets a corresponding much brighter flash appeared, leaving behind a tall, bald man dressed in black in its wake. Salazar Slytherin looked around the Chamber of Secrets with a pleased expression on his face. Finally, his heir had arrived. He had waited long enough. Slytherin swirled around to his statue and spoke in Parseltongue: 'Open.'

From within the mouth of the statue, a monstrous, poisonous green Basilisk uncoiled. A shudder vibrated through the mere foundations of Hogwarts as it landed with a thud on the Chamber's floor.

'My darling, you've grown,' Salazar hissed, patting its head fondly. 'Our time has finally arrived. My heir is here. Guard this for him; it will lead him to the others.'

He handed the large serpent a red leather book with gold trimmed letters and a blazing gold griffin on the cover. The Basilisk recoiled upon seeing the colours and hissed at the book.

'I know, my dear, I know, but it will lead him to mine. Timing is of the essence here. And my book is needed elsewhere for now,' hissed Salazar.

Grudgingly, the Basilisk accepted the book.

'Show my heir the right way, my pet,' he added, looking one more time around the Chamber of Secrets with a delighted, proud expression. 'Oh, and in 1993, you'll encounter a Gryffindor Mudblood with bushy brown hair, carrying a mirror to protect herself against your gaze on the fourth floor. Do not bite her. I need Hermione Jean Granger to stay alive and well.'

Curiously and slightly disgusted, the Basilisk tilted its head and let out a stream of Parseltongue rapidly. It was clearly venting its disagreement with the order just given.

'On every rule, my dear, there is an exception,' Salazar explained, scratching the giant beast underneath its chin. 'That little witch is brilliant, ambitious, cunning, and in every bit worthy of being in my House despite her unfortunate blood. I daresay Godric's rag should have placed her in Slytherin straight away, but I suppose his hat couldn't stand losing such a gem to me. Well, he lost out in the end. She's mine now.'

His loud cackle echoed through the underground passageways. His pet joined him in a strange sibilant snigger.

'I'll be seeing you again soon, my darling,' he hissed affectionately before opening his book and giving it its final order.

For the very last time, Salazar Slytherin disappeared in a dash of silver.

…

_September first, 1991_

'No more'n four to a boat!' Hagrid called out loudly to the first years, but his eyes kept drawing to the little bushy-haired girl he knew a long time ago when she was in her final year at Hogwarts.

It was no surprise to him she ended up sharing a boat with The-Boy-Who-Lived, even though Hermione and Minerva had never been willing to tell him more about the future. But Hagrid remembered how he met her again on that dreadful October night when she had held baby Harry in her arms after You-Know-Who's attack on the Potters. It became very obvious to Hagrid then that she was someone close to Harry, to this baby who defeated _Him_.

As he glanced over and over to Hermione, Hagrid had a hard time with the Unbreakable Vow he'd sworn to Professor Dumbledore, which prevented him from telling Hermione everything about the future, or rather, the past – the past where she had died far too young. Hagrid wasn't quite sure how to look at time in this matter. But since he couldn't warn her about those things, he swore to help and protect his old friend from all dangers in the present, which according to him included a certain Tom Marvolo Riddle.

However, Hagrid was unaware the current danger had already been taken care of. In the bushes, three corpses lay slain, their bellies ripped open, and their necks garrotted. Among the bloody scenery, hiding in the shadows, stood a handsome vampire prince, who only had eyes for Hermione, too, as she followed three boys into one of the boats. As the fleet of boats glided away on Hagrid's command, the prince remained watching, until Hermione disappeared out of sight when her boat moved through the curtain of ivy. Satisfied that she was no longer in danger, the vampire prince tipped his hat in a salute.

'Until we meet again, Miss Granger,' Vlad whispered, pointing his wand at the bodies to vanquish them, before he lit up his dark moonlit surroundings with a dash of silver lighting coming from the ancient, heavy, black volume in his hands with the blood-red title The Circle of Time.

Not too long after all those events Hermione was unaware of, Professor McGonagall called out with an endearing smile on her face: 'Hermione Jean Granger.'

…

_1992, nearing the end of Hermione's first school year._

'Did you really think this garlic was going to keep me out, Quirrell?' Bárthory sneered mockingly as she took a bite out of a tuber, while sitting behind his desk in his classroom. 'Mmm… delicious.'

She tossed the remains of it violently against his quavering head.

'Re-eally, Eli… lisabeth, I… I had no intention to-to ward you off,' Professor Quirrell stuttered fearfully.

The Countess rose from her chair elegantly, her long medieval dress whooshing around her ankles. 'You could have fooled me, darling. I was concerned for a moment that ridiculous turban impaired your brain to function properly and you might have forgotten all about our little deal back in Romania,' Bárthory said, prowling around the shivering Professor.

'N-n-never.'

'Good, I hate to be the one to go back on our arrangement,' said Bárthory suavely. 'I much more prefer little girls over such an old piece of meat like you.'

There was a knock on the classroom door. Bárthory whipped out her blade and stepped back into the shadows. 'Get rid of them,' she whispered warningly.

Professor Quirrell opened the door, covering the vampire from immediate view behind it, and looked down at the twelve-year-old that stood there.

'Professor, I have been reading the last chapter of The Dark Forces: A guide to self-protection and it describes the counter-curse to use to fend off a Stinging Hex, but I can't see how it could possibly work, seeing a Stinging Hex is a spell that according to Goshawk's should be…'

Hermione halted her rant when the Professor held up his trembling hand.

'M..m..miss Granger, we are no… nowhere near chapter twenty-nine y…yet,' Quirrell replied, shocked. 'T-that part of the book w-will be covered in next year's c-classes.'

'A little girl,' Bárthory mouthed silently to him, 'she'll do fine.'

Quirrell was about to comply with the vampire's wishes and tell Hermione to enter, when a voice inside his head coldly spoke, 'If anything happens to her, I will see to it that you will be very, _very_ sorry.'

Quirrell shuddered, before brushing Hermione off immediately and slamming the door shut in front of the astonished girl's face.

'What are you doing?' Bárthory hissed. 'Let her in at once or I will–'

'–do absolutely nothing,' Voldemort finished her sentence coolly.

The Countess's eyes widened upon recognising the voice and she stared puzzled at the turban. 'My Lord, I had no idea you were here.'

'I know, Elizabeth. That's why I am willing to overlook your boldness for thinking you could feed on magical blood without my say-so this once. But I strongly suggest you leave now and find some muggle filth to sate your thirst upon.'

'Yes, my Lord,' Bárthory replied, bowing.

'And Elizabeth,' Voldemort added smoothly, 'make sure everyone in your little clan understands that Hermione Jean Granger is strictly off limits for any of you. If anything happens to her, anything at all, I will be very unhappy. And you do not want to be the one who makes me unhappy, now do you?'

'No Dracul vampire will touch the girl, Master,' Bárthory replied in haste.

'Make sure they don't,' Voldemort said dismissively.

Relieved she'd remained unharmed, Bárthory flitted away from Hogwarts.

'Telling us, vampires, who we can and can't drink from,' the Countess grumbled angrily, having already left Scotland behind her in a blink of an eye. 'Vlad is going to be pissed when he finds out the bugger has use of a body again.'

'Now we are no longer being disturbed, Quirrell, get that dragon egg. We have to fool that oaf into telling us how to pass that annoying three-headed dog,' Lord Voldemort said.

A high-pitched, cold laugh sounded through the classroom, while Professor Quirrell pulled an egg from his drawer.

…

_Present Day_

Months passed in a blink of an eye and it was like Hermione'd never left the UK. Everything felt so normal, like she'd arrived home at last with the exception for the craziness of the campaign, because that turned out to be one big roller coaster. Hermione and Viktor had shaken every wizards' and witches' hand by now, or so her bruised wandhand seemed to inform her. Harry had come through in supporting her and had offered her Twelve Grimmauld Place to use as Headquarters for her staff. She'd been very happy when they'd all vacated her mansion in Wales and she'd regained at least some privacy.

After the current Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt had seen Hermione's ideas for the divers Departments in the Ministry, he'd praised her suggestions more than once in the press. Shacklebolt's support had been followed by a huge party and loads of cheers from the campaign staff, since the man still was extremely popular amongst the Wizarding Community. Rose had done her share by looking extremely cute in a couple of family pictures. The press simply adored the little girl. But the most important things were that Hermione's speeches were greeted with a lot of support by the listeners and she had not lost a single debate against any of her opponents, causing her to have only one real adversary in the running to date – Eumaios McAllister.

But everyone was positive she was going to beat him, too.

This was something that made Angela Krum completely on edge. She scolded everyone who dared to mention things such as: winning, victory, Bludgered McAllister, Kneazle in a bag, or even worse, already addressed Hermione as Minister Granger at every available occasion they had. At the end of most days, Angela was at breaking point and told people to stop jinxing the campaign in an almost hysterical manner. She reminded them that McAllister had the deep pockets of Malfoy Inc. behind him and that the race wasn't over until the public had cast their votes. Soon, people put on appropriate serious faces whenever she came close, while behind her back they danced like mice on the table.

Today, most of the staff hung around the radio in the kitchen of Twelve Grimmauld Place to listen to the live broadcast of the "_Witching Hour_", which hosted a debate between Hermione and Eumaios McAllister led by presenter Glenda Chittock. So far, the debate had gone very well.

But then, Carlotta Pinkstone interrupted the program with her demands about the International Confederation of Wizard's Statute of Secrecy. Pinkstone was known for her slogans as "Muggles must be made aware" and "Magic is for all to benefit upon", and the activist had been imprisoned in the past for her use of magic in various Muggle places. And this time, Pinkstone had found a creative manner to magically cling to Chittock, while disabling the woman's ability to speak, so she had full control over the microphone.

'Security!' yelled McAllister, rising from his seat and audibly walking away.

Hermione leaned forward, raised her hand in a gesture of disbelief, while smiling to Carlotta Pinkstone. The woman stopped her declaration about the Statute and held the microphone out to Hermione expectantly.

She turned her head to McAllister and said in a clear voice, 'Are you going to call for security and leave whenever a difficult situation or subject arises you have no idea how to deal with?'

'Ouch,' Seamus commented, taking another cup of coffee from Kreacher thankfully.

'Woot, woot, go Hermione!' Dean shouted.

'Oh no, don't go in debate with Pinkstone,' Angela mumbled, pulling on her hair. 'The Statute is a political minefield; there are just as many people for as against it and no one has any idea what should come in its place. This is a lose-lose issue.'

Eumaios walked back, so Pinkstone held out the microphone to him and waited for his response. In what was obviously supposed to be a dignified, statesmanship, low voice, Eumaios said, 'My administration will not talk to criminals.'

'No, you only take funding from them for your campaign!' Seamus shouted, outraged, waving a scroll through the air showing every donation made to the wizard.

'Miss Pinkstone is not a criminal,' Hermione replied immediately, hiding the triumphant smirk that threatened to erupt on her face when Eumaios went for her bait. 'She is a voter with an opinion.'

Her reply definitely scored her huge bonus points with Carlotta, who didn't want to hand the microphone back to Eumaios, which let to a silly struggle over it, until Hermione gestured at her to do so.

'A criminal, who used illegal, unlawful means to express her opinion instead of the law obeying methods available to her,' Eumaios said, as if that was final.

Carlotta immediately gave Hermione the floor again.

'And you will never talk with people like her?' asked Hermione innocently.

Several thousand miles away, sitting in his living room, Tom raised his head from his book abruptly and narrowed his eyes at the radio before smirking. 'I wouldn't go there, Eumaios. You're a dead man if you do.'

'Never,' Eumaios replied, not hearing the very sound advice, 'I am a man of my word-'

'-My word is my bond as was, has been, is, and always will be the way of this glorious nation if _**you**_ … vote for _**me**_,' Hermione's staff mock-exclaimed dramatically in unison with McAllister.

'I have a criminal record,' Hermione said calmly, leaning back in her seat.

'And there we go,' Tom muttered, grinning.

It turned utterly silent in the studio. Everyone looked expectantly at Eumaios, while the stunned Carlotta didn't move an inch. She just stared at Hermione, as if she'd never seen a politician like her.

Before McAllister had a chance to recuperate, Hermione added lightly, 'Yet you talk with me.'

Tom sniggered.

'But-but…' he stuttered.

Eumaios didn't know what to say since he'd had clear instructions beforehand to avoid any and all mentioning of the past, because he had nowhere near such an impressive war record as Hermione Granger. His biggest deed had been not participating in the tortures and kills of others. However, he'd never stopped any Death Eater from taking away one of his students or co-workers at the magical university he'd been teaching at the time. His main focus had been on keeping his own pureblood arse safely out of the line of fire. So, his staff was primarily focused on making sure the time of Voldemort's reign stayed out of the publicity for as much as they could manage it – knowing full well, the Krums couldn't bring up the subject themselves without sounding conceited and arrogant, and there were only so many times they could haul Potter along since Harry would take too much attention away from Hermione.

'Oh My Mother Morgana,' Angela said, standing up, excited, 'she's going to get him to say it.'

'Actually,' Hermione continued in the same airy tone, 'I believe everything Miss Pinkstone was ever charged of is in my record, too.'

She proceeded in verifying all the acts one by one with Carlotta, while Eumaios looked helplessly over his shoulder to his campaign manager, who was shaking his head vigorously and who was motioning at him from behind the window to get the hell out of there now. Victoria, who was the one accompanying Hermione there, watched it all silently. Her face set in a blank expression, while her bright blue eyes kept a firm sight of everything that was going on. Her mind was already spinning plans on how to proceed after this radio show was done and get the best news momentum from it. Victoria Krum had seen enough politics to watch a trap being spun before her very eyes, and they hadn't had such a wonderful opportunity to focus the public's attention solely on Hermione's achievements during the war before – not even on the day when they had Harry Potter tag along with her, because Harry had spoken mostly of Hermione's plans for the Auror Department.

McAllister slowly moved backwards, trying to take the advice to leave to heart. He got to the door when Hermione drew her attention away from Carlotta, having finished all the crimes they had in common, and she spoke up to Eumaios, 'Leaving again? Aren't you going to explain to the audience why your word is no longer your bond?'

Tom snorted when the man audibly raced back, showing every listener he indeed had tried to vacate the studio, again.

That also led to several giggles at the Black residence.

'My word is my bond. You were found not guilty of those crimes,' Eumaios responded hastily into the microphone held out to him by the eager Carlotta, but he wasn't sitting down.

'No, I was found guilty,' Hermione corrected. 'But the Wizengamot deemed that I had just justifications for committing the crimes and chose not to sentence me.'

'Exactly, exactly,' Eumaios said, excited he found the difference.

'Hook, line and sinker,' Viktor said to Angela, holding up his hand.

She smacked it, practically jumping on her feet; nobody in the room had ever seen Angela this thrilled about what was happening.

'While Miss Pinkstone has been found guilty and has been sentenced,' Eumaios continued, relieved.

'Miss Pinkstone was trialled under the administration she committed her political crimes under,' Hermione replied crafty. 'I believe it is safe to say had I been trialled under the administration I committed the crimes under I would have been sentenced, too.'

'Need me to vouch for that one?' Tom mumbled, amused. 'Actually, I wouldn't have bothered with the trial, and you know it, Granger.'

'But-but…' Eumaios stuttered, while his campaign manager was jumping up and down, waving his arms like crazy to get him to leave and not say that dreaded name.

'And I didn't just commit political crimes. I broke into and stole a valuable item from Gringotts,' she added, tilting her head in consideration. 'Where you ever convicted of breaking into a wizarding bank, Miss Pinkstone?'

'No.'

'How about theft, then?'

'No.'

'Aid and abet a fugitive from the State?'

'No.'

'Committed Unforgivables upon ministerial employees and others?'

'No.'

'Destroyed a priceless unique historical artefact deliberately?'

'No.'

'Used…'

'You were trying to defeat You-Know-Who!' Eumaios shouted, frustrated.

The triumphant yells in Twelve Grimmauld Place made the building shake on its foundations, which caused Mrs. Black to join in the festivities with howls of repulsion; but nobody bothered with her. Seamus took a hold of Dean and lifted him, dancing around happily, while Angela kissed the radio in delight. Smiling broadly, Viktor leaned back in his chair, while Marian held on to his shoulders, jumping up and down in excitement.

'What a moron,' Tom sighed.

'It was an administration I disagreed with,' Hermione responded evenly.

'Filthy Blood-traitors and Mudbloods befouling the House of my ancestors!'

'Everyone did,' Eumaios countered.

With a snap of his fingers, Kreacher closed the curtains; so they could all hear what was being said again.

'No,' she retorted slowly. 'Not everyone. Voldemort had more than enough supporters to sustain his hold on the country and more than enough people who didn't dare speak up.'

Eumaios shifted on his feet nervously.

'So nice of you to remember, Granger,' Tom uttered.

'The silence of the majority partly legitimised his administration, so my actions can be considered quite similar to Carlotta's. She disagrees with the current administration like I did back then and she takes her illegal actions far less extreme than I did. But you will talk to me and not to her. It's quite a hypocritical standpoint.'

'I am not a hypocrite,' Eumaios bristled. 'Minister Shacklebolt doesn't kill and murder people; there is no comparison between him and … and … _Him_.'

'Well, maybe he's not _that_ big a moron after all,' Tom conceded dryly.

'I never said there was. Kingsley is a close personal friend of mine. I remember him to be one of the very first members of the Order of the Phoenix. I support what he did and is still doing for this country as minister. However, Miss Pinkstone here disagrees with some of his decisions and decided to get her opinion heard in what she clearly thinks is the best or perhaps only way available to her. The question we have to ask ourselves is who gets to decide what is and what isn't a legitimate government? Who gets to decide what an individual citizen is or isn't allowed to do to voice her concerns on policy?'

'This woman is a terrorist.'

'The same statement has been made about me, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and many other friends of mine. What if that label had stopped us? What if we would have thought, oh well, if we are terrorists, which obviously is a bad thing, so we should put our opinions to rest to keep in line with the silent majority?' Hermione paused. 'You wouldn't be running for anything then, Mr. McAllister. This … _glorious _country wouldn't be where it is today. Lord Voldemort would still be firmly in charge.'

Glaring briefly at his radio as if it was to blame, Tom hissed, 'Just a matter of time, Granger. Just a matter of time.'

'His regime was a dictatorship. You had no other options. Miss Pinkstone here is free to vote for someone who shares her opinions. Yet she chose to commit crimes. She chose to bypass and endanger the democracy of this country.'

'The democracy of a country is more at danger from those in power who use its security as a method to label all individuals with different opinions as dangerous. You say Miss Pinkstone is free to vote for someone who shares her views. So, tell her, who should she vote for? You know just as well as I do that no candidate will touch the Statute as a subject, because we all know its political suicide to address it. It's a lose-lose issue. Not even the ones for upholding the Statute are completely happy with it, but those against it have a rosary view of the world to not see the downsides of complete disclosure.

Frankly, I am not happy with the Statute either. It has given me and my parents a lot of headaches, annoyance, and even grief at times. But, coming from a Muggle background, I also am not for full disclosure without any restrictions. So, I'll be the first one to admit I don't have a solution to this dilemma, but I know we won't get one by ignoring the existence of the problem. The world is getting smaller. Other societies rise; power balances shift; new technologies emerge; yet, we in the Wizarding World live outside of it, in our tiny glass house, waiting for it to get smashed to pieces someday. I don't want to wait for that to occur. I want the best and the brightest minds of this country to address the problems of tomorrow and find a way for us all to live together. If you vote for me, I will not run away from the difficult decisions; I will not claim to have all the answers; but I will do my very best to put the best people to work on the problems and get us answers to all those questions nobody has dared to ask. I will not ignore the issues of this nation simply because it's inconvenient to me, and you can hold me to that.'

Victoria clicked open her cell phone and dialled her sister.

'Already on it,' Angela's voice sounded before she could say something. 'Move that old stuff away, Marian, and get me a list of every bleeding issue we'd normally avoid like the plague. I want them on every single one of our posters, on every flyer, along with a catchy phrase. Something about how she can be held accountable for keeping the nation's dilemmas at the forefront of her mind if they vote for her. Have our writers make something good out of that last bit of her speech. From now on, every single one of you has one statement and one statement alone to make to the press: Our candidate does not avoid–.'

'Walk,' Victoria interrupted. 'Eumaios tried to walk out.'

'Our candidate does not walk away from the hard issues. She will-'

'Don't start with the negative. We don't want the news cycle to be primarily about him.'

'Our candidate will address all the hard issues as Minister of Magic. She doesn't walk away,' Angela summarised. 'Then, you can add one or two of the subjects on the list Marian will provide you with as an example to what Hermione Granger...'

Victoria placed the phone against her trousers when she noticed the arrival of the Aurors, which was followed by McAllister's campaign manager taking advantage of the disturbance by pulling his candidate away from the scene. Victoria couldn't resist waving him bye-bye tauntingly before checking to see if the situation with the Aurors wouldn't cause problems for Hermione. However, Miss Pinkstone apparently was very happy, because she disengaged the Sticking and Silencing Charm she'd placed on Glenda Chittock voluntarily and went with the Aurors peacefully, giving Hermione a thankful nod. Now that the radio show had come to an abrupt end, Glenda Chittock thanked Hermione for being there. The candidate rose from her chair, walking to Victoria, smirking.

'Never, ever do something like that again,' Victoria whispered, shaking her head.

'I think it worked out just fine,' she replied smugly. 'Don't tell me you haven't got a zillion catch phrases-'

'We're changing the focus of the campaign,' Victoria interrupted, explaining it fast to Hermione.

'Okay,' Hermione nodded understandingly, looking at her watch. 'I need to go get Rose now. I'd promised Ron to pick her up right after this debate was over, unless you need me around for something? I can always send him a message.'

'No, it's fine. We don't want to draw the attention away from what you said now,' Victoria said, and while Hermione Disapparated away, she muttered underneath her breath, 'Loose canon candidates are always the best and the worst kind.'

She pushed the horn back to her ear and heard Angela threaten at the other end, 'I want this to run and hold the news' cycle for all eternity, and I will personally kill whoever tries to change the subject.'

Today's Daily Prophet, which Angela'd been waving in the air as an example to where she wanted to see Hermione's statements printed on, flew through the air and page eight happened to fall on Viktor's lap. These days, his entire concentration had gone to the campaign, so he'd never checked the tiny article now blinking at him at the bottom left: "_Public outcry over brutal murder in __Knockturn__ Alley. __Marscha__ Simmons, a respected housewife and mother of two, was slaughtered in broad daylight while grocery shopping in __Diagon__ Alley._"

Marscha? Surely, it couldn't be … it was just a coincidence.

Clutching to the lose page, he raised it and his eyes flickered over the meaningless sentences. Apparently, Marscha had suddenly vanished from a crowded Flourish and Blotts to be found back chopped to tiny pieces in an abandoned alley nearby.

"'_To think that you can't even go into a full shop alone anymore,' Mrs. Wilcox claimed, clutching to her husband's arm at Magical Menagerie, 'it's outrageous.' … Mrs. Simmons' neighbour Evelyn Hortensia told us of Mrs. Simmons__'s__ kindness and loving character. 'She always was willing to assist her neighbours with everything. Those poor, poor children and darling Martin must be devastated. How can anyone hurt such a sweet, lovely woman like that?' … Madam __Primpernelle__ hopes the __Aurors__ will soon catch the perpetrator. 'Sales have reached an all-time low; it hasn't been this bad since He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named–' … Head of the __Auror__ Department, Harry Potter, stated the crime was given top priority, but it was policy not to comment on ongoing investigations. 'How do we…?'" _

Viktor put down the page. There wasn't any real news in the article. It consisted mainly of outcries and demands for action of the Aurors. And surely, there were more women named Marscha? But he hadn't heard from her in a while now. Quickly, he rose to his feet and waved Angela away, who wanted him to do something, telling her he needed to go to the loo. He locked the door behind him and warded it with a Sound Deadening Charm before pulling out his cell phone and dialling the number as he had before.

'Yes,' a female voice spoke lightly.

Paling up, Viktor hung up quickly. That hadn't been Marscha's voice. Shaking slightly, he sat down on the closed top of the loo. Marscha had died, died in the UK, where he'd told her to search… The woman had been recommended to him as the best of her field by an old friend of his from Durmstrang; a friend, who knew his illegal business well, being in charge of a huge organisation supplying the world with questionable magical goods and constantly avoiding the authorities' reach.

_I am being selfish. It's too dangerous, _his wife's words echoed in his mind, followed quickly with some of Marscha's statements. _Hermione Granger. I've met her. The woman scares the shit out of me. Do you really think she'd be on the run for some flunky?_

He rubbed his hands over his short hair. What the hell had he done? According to his friend, whose judgement he trusted in this, Marscha was not someone to cross. Tough as nails, he'd said.

Yet, she'd been kidnapped in a crowded place and killed afterwards. No, slaughtered – the article had said slaughtered.

Oh Merlin, what if she'd talked before dying, and whoever it was that Hermione was afraid of, now knew he'd sent an assassin after him? Viktor sighed, closing his eyes. Well, he'd have to talk to her. She had to tell him who the hell it was. Maybe the Aurors could tie Marscha's murder to…

Oh no. What if Marscha had left traces behind leading to him and the Aurors would come knocking on his doorstep? Victoria was going to kill him if Angela wouldn't get to him first.

He buried his hands in his face and groaned. He knew this wasn't the kind of thing to be kept hidden from those in charge of running your campaign. They had to have a strategy in case the worst would happen and his involvement would become public knowledge. Reluctantly, he clicked his phone open again and dialled Victoria's number. This wasn't going to be a conversation he'd enjoy.

xXxXx

'Well?' Harry asked curiously over the shoulder of the female Auror who'd picked up the cell phone of Marscha Simmons.

'They hung up immediately,' she replied, disgruntled.

'Take it to Moran, maybe one of her Unspeakables can trace back the number,' Harry suggested, looking around the secret underground chambers they'd found in Marscha Simmons's house worried.

He'd seen a lot of different magical weapons before, but never this much variety in one single individual's house and they were all exceptionally modern. He picked up what had seemed at first glance to be a high-tech Muggle rifle, but the bullets were obviously charmed to never miss their target and the scope was something else altogether. It followed who you wanted it to follow on its own. All you had to do was think of who you wanted to shoot and if that person was in an unwarded area and had no magical protection, you could kill them from your comfortable couch at home.

'I want to know the real identity of this woman and what exactly she was doing in Diagon Alley,' he ordered, putting the rifle down and staring at the photographs with crosses through their faces and the two without them, knowing he'd just solved a lot of international high-profile murders and had prevented two from happening.

'We'll only have a small window before the news of her death leaks to whoever hired her and the money will go elsewhere,' Proudfoot stated over his shoulder.

Harry nodded. 'You have contacts in Canada, right?'

'Family, yes.'

'Keep it low profile and go take a vacation now. We don't want to alert the media someone will try to kill Minister Pelletier. I'll let Simon know, you'll be dropping by.'

'What about the Russian Runes' Decoder Golubev? As a scholar he won't have nearly as much security as a politician has.'

'On the contrary, I've already been in contact with Vladimir Sokolov before finding this chamber – his department found clues suggesting a British assassin had been hired to kill Golubev after several failed attempts by local hitters. The Russians increased Golubev's security a fortnight ago. Why else do you think someone would be willing to pay top Galleons,' –he pointed to the ridiculously high figure on the picture– 'to an assassin if any Joe on the street could get to him?'

'Yeah,' Proudfoot sighed. 'Odd she came running back suddenly though. According to her husband, she was supposed to spend the entire week in St. Petersburg at the Ancient Runes' conference. She'd have had good access to Golubev there. And for that kind of money, she could retire and live the rest of her life quite comfortably. You gotta wonder what was so important to make a professional like her drop an assignment and return to the UK in a hurry.'

'That's exactly what I want to know,' Harry said, furrowing his brow. 'Exactly.'

xXxXx

'Poor Ron,' Hermione thought, while knocking on the door and hearing the ruckus inside.

But it turned out Ron was the one responsible for the ruckus instead of James and Rose.

Hermione had been afraid of it ever since she heard Ginny's description of the boy, and indeed, her fears became a reality. Though Rose was friends with all three, and Lily certainly was happy to have another girl around, Rose and James were like kindred spirits. To use the word menace was really an understatement, and together, they could make grown vampires beg for mercy. But Hermione had to admit Ron was one of the few who could handle the two. Lots of experience with Fred and George probably helped in that matter.

Hermione entered the house when a panting James opened the door for her. He wore a red shirt that said in big bright letters "Team J&R" and he held a strange-looking ladle in his hand that carried a small, red ball.

'Hello, Aunt Hermione,' he quickly said, before running back to Rose who wore a similar shirt as his and was hiding behind the couch. The two immediately started whispering to each other, while Hermione walked in on the main event.

The completely trashed living room came into full view and she watched the pandemonium before her very eyes. A humongous, Hagrid-sized teddy bear chased a mock fearful screaming Ron around the table. Lily, who sat on his shoulders, shook with laughter, and her ladle was completely ball-free. Albus, who was hiding behind a tossed over side table, held his ladle with a small, yellow ball ready to strike. Hermione saw that those two wore yellow shirts that stated "Team L&A". Ron ran past Albus.

'HEEELLLUPP!' Ron screamed to Albus.

Albus threw his ball at the bear's belly that had a round yellow dot on it. Rose and James peeked over the couch, while the ball struck its target and the dot turned red. Quickly, they dove out of sight.

'Yeah!' yelled Lily triumphantly.

Ron moved back to Albus and held up his hand to him. Albus gave him a high-five with an excited red face. The bear stopped chasing the yellow team and turned around to look for red targets. But Rose and James were very invisible to the bear. James pointed to his right, signalling he was going for that direction, and Rose nodded in return and crawled away underneath the couch, making certain the bear could not see her. James waited until Rose was invisible, before he jumped up and ran away in the opposite direction. The bear immediately chased him, but Rose came out from underneath the other side of the couch.

'I'm right here!' she shouted to the bear, waving her arms through the air.

The bear was confused. It halted and its head moved from one target to the next when two red balls struck it dead on and the dot turned yellow again. James and Rose raised their fists in victory. Albus and Lily, on the other hand, had not been expecting such a quick turn of events. So, when the bear wobbled around, it had no problem in grabbing a hold of Albus, who was still in the process of retrieving his ball. The bear started hugging and tickling Albus. Lily ran to the rescue, but she didn't see an open spot to hit the bear with. Albus pretty much covered the yellow dot on the bear's belly.

'Look out!' shouted Ron, when Lily almost came within arm's length of the bear. Lily jumped back and looked helplessly at Ron. 'Try to hit the bear's back,' suggested Ron, while winking at Hermione.

Lily ran around the bear and threw her ball at the yellow dot on its back, but Rose and James were more than ready. As the dot turned red again; two balls struck it immediately after Lily's. Lily, who'd thought the bear would be chasing the other two, had come too close by and was caught as well by the tickling bear, whose dot started flashing yellow as a sign of defeat for that team.

'We won, Mummy! Did you see it?' shouted Rose, and she ran happily into Hermione's arms.

'Three to one!' added James proudly.

Albus and Lily laughed loudly, because the bear still tickled them. Ron rescued the two by deactivating the bear. 'Mmm… that needs work,' he muttered before speaking up, 'Okay, that's it. Ice-cream for everyone who has hit the bear.'

Four shouts of joy followed that statement, and they all quickly ran to the stools at the bar. A simple wave of Ron's wand and four little bowls appeared before the children. A large bucket hovered into view and big chunks of ice-cream were scooped into the bowls on the bar.

'Do we get a cherry on top?' asked Lily.

'And chocolate sprinklings?' added Rose hopefully.

'Of course, and whipped cream, otherwise it isn't a true ice-cream, is it?' replied Ron knowingly, and the desired toppings were added under great accord with his statement.

'Need some help cleaning up this mess?' Hermione asked him.

'Yes, thanks,' said Ron.

Hermione waved her wand at the room and began rearranging the furniture back to order, while Ron tinkered at the bear's back.

'What is that thing?' she asked.

'Some new game we might add to the collection. I was testing how our clientele would like it.'

'Well, it seemed to be quite a success with those four,' said Hermione.

'Yes, but there are still a few problems that we need to overcome before it will be ready for mass production. As you saw, I had to deactivate the bear. It's supposed to automatically stop after a minute of hugging and tickling, but so far, George and I have been unable to make that work. And it also keeps getting confused when two targets run in the opposite direction. Rose and James found that out real quickly.'

'Which would make the game too easy after playing it a while,' Hermione added understandingly.

'Exactly,' said Ron, and he tugged on a cord. The bear shifted, changed form, and disassembled into the large suitcase. 'At least this works, I doubt people want a bear statue in their house when playtime is over.'

'Bears, the new wizarding trend in interior decorating,' Hermione said, grinning.

'I wouldn't mind,' James said.

'Me neither,' added Albus.

'He is cute,' said Lily.

'Are we getting one?' asked Rose, looking at her mother hopefully.

The question was highly appreciated by James, who immediately began planning bear war games in the gardens at home.

'You heard your Uncle Ron. The bear is not finished,' Hermione said, torpedoing those plans.

Ron seconded that by nodding his head, and four disappointed faces returned to their ice-creams.

'Maybe we can get one when it's finished?' Albus suggested softly to the others.

'Then, Lily needs to ask Dad when Mum is working,' plotted James, scooping up his ice-cream rapidly.

Hermione and Ron glanced at each other, knowingly.

'Do you want some coffee before you go?' asked Ron, when they were done cleaning up.

'I'd love some.'

They both sat down in the living room, while the children ran out to play some more games in the game room Ron had lying on the other side of his huge penthouse. 'I heard parts of your debate with McAllister through the noise. From what I could decipher, you pretty much crushed his chances,' Ron said, grinning. 'Though, you did lie.'

'Did not,' Hermione said in mock outrage.

'Oh yes, you did. I happen to know you've always supported Carlotta's views,' he replied, waddling his finger at her. 'Politician.'

'That was when I was young and foolish, Ronald,' she reprimanded. 'Things aren't that simple anymore.'

'Eh, I still have my SPEW button. Don't tell my I spent my precious two Sickles for nothing? Because then you most certainly will not get my vote,' he huffed.

Hermione laughed. 'I believe Kingsley did a lot already to improve the living conditions of House-elves.'

'I am sure all your scary, threatening owls made him do it, and he did see what you did to poor Marietta,' Ron said, sniggering. 'I am positive he wanted to get you off his back.'

'You mean like you did back then,' she retorted humorously.

'Oi,' Ron said, clutching to his chest as if he was hurt irreparably. 'As you may recall, two Sickles was an awful lot of money for me then, so that should prove to you how much I cared. And I won't cease to care once you're Minister of Magic. No, no, I will owl my concerns daily, send all my bears your way, have Skeeter write articles on it, oh… and put Draco Malfoy on your case,' he roared with laughter.

Hermione folded her arms over each other and waited with a blank expression till he was done, though her eyes were twinkling mischievously. 'Too late, Ronald, Eumaios McAllister beat you to it.'

'What?' Ron said, stunned.

'Didn't you know his funding comes mostly from Malfoy Inc.? Seamus wanted to launch a full page advertisement in the Prophet informing people about that.'

Ron laughed. 'I bet he did.'

'Thank Merlin, Victoria was there and stopped him.'

'Why? Aren't people entitled to know this?'

'Sure, but if it comes from us, we will look vicious. Besides, it would backfire. Draco has been exonerated by the Wizengamot, mainly because Harry testified he only became a follower under extreme pressure.'

'Yeah, well, Harry has a screw loose. I told him to let ferret junior rot in Azkaban, too. But _noooo_… he had to go out of his way to save Malfoy, again.' Ron sighed, exaggerated.

'Ron, Draco really had not much of a choice.'

'Pffftt…,' Ron blew through his lips disparagingly. 'Even if he had, he would have become a Death Eater. I remember very clearly he boosted about having a mark, before his tiny Slytherin brain realised the task he was given by Voldemort was impossible to accomplish. Speaking of him, have you seen Riddle since you came back living here?'

'No, he's been suspiciously absent,' Hermione said thoughtfully. She had been wondering about that odd occurrence for a while now and it didn't forebode well.

'Suspiciously?' Ron sharply asked. 'Why would you use a term like that? He is this new wonderful redeemed person, isn't he?'

Hermione shrugged. 'If you say so,' she said loosely.

'No, I don't say so,' he corrected immediately. 'Others do.'

'Yes, I noticed. I talked to Hagrid the other day, and even he is a huge fan of Riddle now,' Hermione said calmly.

'I take it you aren't buying into the act,' said Ron, scratching his neck.

'I don't know. I haven't seen Tom in seven years. I really can't say what he's up to and whether it is something that can or can't see the light of day.'

'I don't trust him one bit, no matter how wonderful he pretends to be,' Ron replied certainly. 'Wait a second, seven years? You were here seven years ago and didn't stop by to say hello?'

'I wasn't here. I've seen Tom abroad on a number of occasions, before I was able to block the tracking ability we have on each other. You know the one that came along with our infamous bond. After that … well, I did see him, but his information was off. He had the wrong building in Tokyo,' Hermione snickered.

Ron snorted. 'He couldn't have been happy about that.'

'Oh no, he certainly wasn't,' replied Hermione, laughing out loud now. 'He blew up the furniture in the flat he was mistakenly sent to. I left the area with Rose after that.'

Ron watched her meaningfully. 'So, you haven't seen him in seven years, you say, and Rose is five. Mmm … I suppose that wouldn't work.'

'Ronald Bilius Weasley, what are you implying?'

'Nothing, nothing, it's just the kid is awfully smart and…'

'Oh well, then it must be his…' Hermione rolled her eyes to the ceiling. 'Really, don't you think Riddle would be able to add two and two together if that was a valid option? And truthfully, Ron, do you think for one moment he would stay away if there was a slight chance Rose was his? You really can be incredibly thick at times.'

'Sorry, stop biting my head off. It was just a thought,' Ron reacted, holding up his hands in an apologetic manner. 'So, Tom hasn't been around to say hi.'

'No, and it is kind of strange, don't you think?'

'Perhaps he is concerned he might do something rash and shave Viktor's beard or something a bit more drastic – not that I would mind that,' he jokingly said. 'I gotta say Riddle is so disappointing me in this matter. I sit around here, waiting for him to get rid of Vicky for me, and then, Harry could throw him in Azkaban, and we could live happily ever after.'

Hermione slammed the now snickering Ron in his arm. 'Funny, Ron, very funny. How is Eve?'

'Lotte is fine,' Ron corrected casually. 'She is out shopping in Paris with her friends. She doesn't like little children, I think. She ran straight out of the house the moment they arrived.'

'You mean she saw James and Rose, and showed some common sense by vacating the area,' said Hermione, grinning.

'Nah, they're not that bad,' Ron replied, looking over his shoulder fondly to where the two had disappeared to. 'They just enjoy having some fun. Besides, it is all Harry's fault.'

'Pardon?'

'Yeah, I warned him that naming his son James Sirius was asking for it. And then, on top of that, he named the other Severus, that's just begging for trouble. After all, it's all in the name and look who has been proven right, little old me!'

Hermione snorted at the great Lockhart imitation and she looked around to make certain there weren't any little ears around. She leaned forward in a conspirator's manner and whispered, 'Why did he do it anyway? I mean Albus I get, but Severus?' She wrinkled her nose.

'AHA! See, it isn't just me who thinks it is creepy, odd at best,' he replied triumphantly.

'No,' she shook her head vigorously, 'it definitely isn't just you.'

Hermione and Ron talked quite amicably about this and that for some time, before she called out to Rose that they were going to leave. Rose hugged Ron goodbye and she cheered when he told her that they were going to go to the London Zoo next time she visited. Rose chatted all the way home about how Uncle Ron had done this… and Uncle Ron was the best in that… Hermione smilingly listened how Vishna suddenly had got some real competition from the tall redhead.

They walked down the lane home as it quickly became dark above them. Hermione looked up and watched the threatening rain clouds crowd up the sky. She pulled out her wand and started to lift the wards around their home, when a small crack was heard nearby. Hermione swirled around and raised her wand to the bushes.

'Lumos!'

Rose shrieked and jumped behind her mother when a cloaked figure stepped forward in the extreme flash of light that emanated from Hermione's wand. His hands were visibly held to the side - palms open in a gesture of harmlessness, but that did nothing to reassure her.

'Don't you bloody well move,' Hermione hissed.

'I mean you no harm. You have my word on that,' a deep voice spoke.

A tall, well-dressed man with grey hair slowly stepped away from the bushes onto the sidewalk. His hands raised up further, palms forward. But Hermione saw the Dracul emblem on his cloak, so she did not lower her wand. The emblem consisted of a distinctive brown dragon that was drawn in a circle. Its tail was meeting its head, while the green emerald eyes sparkled aggressively towards any attacker and the white crucifix on its wings indicated the history this emblem once beheld. It all was a symbol of the most dangerous, traditional, and aggressive vampire clan around, and she wasn't about to take the word of a complete stranger for granted.

Rose, who had been holding on to her mother's cloak and was hiding behind her, saw that the man was a vampire and jumped forward, but Hermione grabbed her by her collar and pulled her back, not taking her eyes or her wand of the stranger for a second.

'Stay behind me, Rose,' she ordered.

Rose looked up at her mother in confusion, but did as she said. Hermione slowly began to move towards the gates of her house. A quick wave of her wand and the wards lowered around the entrance.

'Inside Rose, quickly. Lock up everything and stay there.'

'Yes, Mum,' a tiny voice replied.

'Go,' said Hermione coolly, and she tossed her daughter across the threshold, while raising the wards behind the girl immediately.

She heard how Rose ran towards the house and slammed the doors shut with a tremendous crash. A flash came from the house, and suddenly, all the windows and doors bolted and became inaccessible from the outside. Rose had locked down the house completely, as Hermione'd taught her.

'We need to talk. It's important for all our sakes,' the vampire said. 'On my honour as a vampire, I will not attack you or your family.'

'You're Dracul Order,' Hermione replied, 'Forgive me if I don't take your word for it. I know your clan only shows honour towards other vampires.'

'My name is Gerard Capet, and yes, I am with the Order of the Dracul, but I would rather spill blood than break my word to anyone, human or vampire.'

'Where are the others?' Hermione asked sharply, her wand was still pointing directly towards the vampire's chest.

'I am alone. No one knows I am here. I've heard about you, Mrs. Granger. You understand the way of the vampire. Dreadful things are happening. It's all starting over again. I need your help, before it is too late.'

'If this is about Prince Vlad's plea to the Council for the old ways, I am afraid I can be of no assistance to you. I have no influence on the Vampire Council.'

'You are very close with Vishna Vasuki. Some even claim you are his spouse and Rose is his dau–'

Hermione interrupted Gerard with a loud sigh. 'Vampire gossip,' she stated, while shaking her head.

'Yet, you do carry his respect and so that of others in his wake. Your name is well-known amongst the vampires, Mrs. Granger. Even those of the Dracul Order speak of you highly.'

'Well, this is all very flattering, but what is your point?'

'Prince Vlad is about to make a humongous mistake. I need you to convince him to change his mind.'

Hermione stared at the gentleman vampire astonished. 'You're out of your mind,' she said and started to laugh. Really, the thought alone that Vlad would listen to a human was incredibly entertaining. 'If you think Vlad is making a wrong political decision, why don't you do something about it? You're a vampire. You're in his clan. It is more likely that he will listen to you than to me.'

'His Highness doesn't listen to the lower ranks. I am just another vampire, Mrs. Granger. You are friends or more with the leader of the Vasuki Empire. He will listen to you, human or not.'

'Just another vampire? Didn't you say your name was Capet?'

'French royalty doesn't exist anymore. My heritage is of little consequence to the others.'

'And as for Vlad's fake heritage?' she asked, amused.

Gerard smiled. 'No one would be foolish enough to bring up that fact. Vampire bloodlines are hard to trace. There has always been a Vlad Dracul leading the Order, fake or otherwise.'

'So none of you care about the fact that the real Vlad Dracul never had any children with Elizabetha and that all his vampire descendants were exterminated right after his death by Van Helsing? You all just follow any bully big enough to claim the title.'

'As long as they are both big and powerful, yes,' Gerard said. 'And this is where our problem lies. Both Vlad and Vishna are beginning to get of a certain, shall we say, respectable vampire age. They don't have a significant amount of time anymore to keep their positions.'

'You mean they are nearing their death,' Hermione said, knowing full well how rare it was for a vampire prince to simply step aside and let someone else take over. Blood was somehow always spilt.

'Yes, well, their physical strength isn't what it used to be, and every time another Bonfire Night comes around, they're getting more and more likely to lose their respective duels and with that their leadership position. The rumours surrounding their successors are already beginning to take dangerous turns. Do you know what happened almost a thousand years ago, when Vlad and Vishna ascended their thrones?'

'I heard some talk about a vampire war in the past,' Hermione said, concerned, 'but I don't know the details. What happened?'

'The Dracul Order and the Vasuki Empire are the largest, most powerful vampire clans in the world. They pretty much dominate the Vampire Council's decisions. In the past, when one of its princes died, the power balance in the Council was affected. Some times it was in benefit of the Dracul; other times it was for the Vasuki's. It all depended on which one of the princes had the most experience and obtained the most authority over the others. But when Vlad and Vishna gained power simultaneously, they were both inexperienced and young. Some of the other older clans' princes tried to take advantage of the power vacuum that followed the ascension of the two, hoping to finally overthrow the dominance of the biggest clans in the world. It led to a thoroughly horrible and long-term global vampire war.'

'And you're afraid that will happen again, when Vlad and Vishna die or get overthrown.'

'They are of the same age. The same circumstances as before are beginning to form and take shape. I see the plotting and whispers already all around me. The scheming has begun. We will go to an all out state of warfare again if Vishna and Vlad don't lay down their differences, before they abandon their positions or die.'

Hermione snorted. 'Hell seems more likely to freeze over than that happening.'

'I know. It's also what the Countess thinks, and she has taken a rather questionable approach to prevent a possible power vacuum to occur on the side of the Dracul, when Vlad descends his throne. That's why I am here asking for your help.'

'If the Countess found a way to prevent a power vacuum on your end, won't that prevent your full-scale war? As you said earlier it was based on the…'

'She is asking Riddle for help.'

'What?' Hermione shouted, shocked. 'Has Bárthory gone bonkers?'

'I know...' but Gerard halted his speech abruptly, when Hermione raised her hand and looked around the area suspiciously.

'Homenum Revelio!' she cast. Fortunately, nobody appeared to be there. 'We'd better continue this talk inside. We're much less likely to be eavesdropped on behind the wards. I … damn … follow me.'

Hermione lowered the wards and beckoned Gerard in. She unlocked the house and the two of them went inside. 'Mummy? Is everything alright?'

'Stay in your room, Rose,' Hermione said to the little girl who stood on top of the staircase.

She was pleased to see her daughter had the good sense to hold her wand in her hand, but she would have been even more pleased had Rose not placed herself in jeopardy by coming out of her room at all. She would have to talk to her about that later on.

'Everything is fine,' she added reassuringly, 'but I need you to wait in your room, until I come along, okay?'

Rose nodded and she eyed Gerard suspiciously, before going back inside.

Hermione beckoned the vampire to sit down. 'So please explain to me why Bárthory thinks asking Riddle for help will improve matters.'

'Simple, if Vlad were to appoint Riddle as his successor …'

'Hold it right there. I doubt very much Tom will be interested in becoming a vampire,' Hermione said calmly. 'He hates having to depend on anything and being depended on blood is probably not something he would find appealing. Besides, being a vampire means he'll have to give up sunlight, can't do magic all the time, and so much more. I find it very unlikely he will help out in this manner.'

'I never said he needed to become a full vampire. A half vampire could rule the Order and wouldn't be bothered with the dependencies we vampires have to face. And I won't have to remind you that someone who becomes only part vampire will still share our much extended lifespan, will I?'

Hermione sighed. She hadn't forgotten about Tom's little immortality issues, and she knew for a fact that he was still researching to obtain it in any shape or form he could get it. Vampires could live for centuries. They were not immortal, but it was awfully close and it would certainly give Riddle more time to find another way again.

'Are you saying the Draculs would accept someone as their prince who is only part vampire?' asked Hermione. 'Your clan is known for hating what you so delightfully call half-breeds.'

'Unlike the Wizarding Community, we, vampires, are very much aware of Tom Marvolo Riddle's other identity. Do you truly believe anyone would dare oppose his authority? Especially if his coronation is supported by Vlad and Elizabeth? It would be suicidal at best.'

'And Bárthory thinks she can prevent a war by doing this?' Hermione asked disbelievingly.

'Well, a vampire war, which is all she cares about anyway. With Voldemort running the Dracul Order, the Vampire Council is bound to follow his lead, especially when the Vasuki Empire gets run by someone new, someone nobody has heard of.'

'If the new Vasuki Prince even takes an opposing side,' Hermione said thoughtfully.

'Exactly,' said Gerard, 'you're beginning to see the significant threat here.'

'Yes,' Hermione nodded. It was an utter disaster. 'It would be the first time in history all vampires would agree on the course ahead and the one laying out said course would be Tom – not a good scenario. What makes you think I can help prevent this?'

'Not many people know that Prince Vlad isn't much of a Voldemort fan.'

Hermione raised her eyebrows at Gerard's statement. The elegant vampire crossed his legs and smiled at her obvious disbelief. 'The Dracul Order only did Lord Voldemort's bidding, because Vlad owed him a Vampire–'

'–Debt,' finished Hermione, irritated. 'Why aren't you vampires a bit more careful whom you get to owe favours to?'

Gerard shrugged and continued, 'Anyway, after his fall, Vlad decided that he only owed the debt to the other Riddle, since Riddle's resurrection came at an age before he helped him.'

Hermione snorted. Leave it up to a vampire to get out from underneath their own precious rulebook.

'So,' Gerard added, 'Vlad did not approach Riddle about his past self or his relationship with the Dracul Order at all.'

'And you are saying, now he has?'

'Bárthory has. A few months ago, she sent me and my friend, Michael, on an errand to deliver this message to someone who could save the Dracul Order. Michael and I were shocked to find out it was Voldemort, but we left it there, thinking nothing would come of it. It wasn't until yesterday a response came back. Riddle is going to meet with Elizabeth in Rome in about a week from now, while Vlad is at the Council's gathering. And that is why I think you might have a shot to prevent all this. I didn't think it was possible before, but now I sincerely believe Bárthory is acting without Vlad's knowledge.'

'You believe? You are not sure?'

'No, I am not one-hundred percent certain, but Elizabeth has been very secretive about all this. Sending me and Michael … Let's say we are not exactly Vlad's favourites or first choice in matters that are this important. Besides, Vlad has never liked to have others tell him what to do and how to act. And man, when Voldemort was in power, he ... well, you know.'

Gerard made a waving gesture with his hand, before continuing in his explanation.

'So if Prince Vlad isn't the one initiating this, you might be able to convince him of the bad ramifications of this action. Considering your background with Prince Vishna, I am certain Vlad will hear you out. They might disagree on approaches, but I know for a fact that he has great respect for Vishna. He will not dishonour him by not extending an invitation to you, if you put in a request for a meeting.'

'If Vlad isn't in on this,' Hermione said quietly. 'If… There are an awful lot of "ifs" here. I need some time to think about this, Mr. Capet.'

'Please, call me Gerard. Mr. Capet makes me feel like I am a thousand years old.'

Hermione smiled, knowing he most likely was. 'Okay, Gerard. I am going to need some time to consider my options here.'

'Of course, as long as you remember that the longer you wait, the more chance Bárthory has on implementing her strategy. And she is meeting Riddle next Wednesday.'

'I will keep that in mind,' Hermione responded evenly.

She shook the surprisingly delicate hand of Gerard and bid him goodbye. As she watched the vampire leave the premises, she bit her lip. She wasn't certain what to make of this story. If Gerard was truthful, she had to try – but if he wasn't, this could very well be an elaborate trap. She needed an objective opinion. So, she wrote a letter to someone who could provide her with that. If there was any chance of deception, Sheila "Sunny" Holmes was the most likely person to detect it. And she wrote another letter to Vishna. Prince Vishna would be biased, naturally, but he could also provide her with some options she might not have thought of.

When she was done writing and owling the letters, she went to talk with Rose. Rose definitely needed to get a bit more guarded around vampires. Not that all vampires were the killing creatures most people in the Wizarding World took them for, but Rose thought they were all kind and friendly, which unfortunately was just another misconception.

After her talk with Rose, Hermione took a short trip to Twelve Grimmauld Place by using the Floo Network. She needed to check her schedule and find out if there were any changes in the program. It was a busy night. Everyone was shouting about to no one in particular, because the latest polls had just got in and they were fabulous. Hermione's performance on "_Witching Hour_" had been well received. She walked to the bulletin board where the staff kept track of all negative publicity so far. She glanced over some of the headlines.

"_Candidate Minister despises free press." _

"_The lies Granger is feeding the world." _

"_Hermione Granger: hero or villain?" _

"_Is a thirty-four year old ready for this responsibility?" _

"_Coming soon: the true background behind the girl deemed to be our next Minister. Miss Marietta __Edgecombe__ reveals all."_

Hermione snorted when she saw the name behind those articles: Rita Skeeter.

'Big surprise,' she muttered uncaring.

Victoria walked in and stopped next to her. 'Don't let them get to you,' she calmly stated. 'It is only one reporter. It is also why we aren't responding to her accusations. There is no need to validate her statements and draw attention to them. I was expecting a lot more negative publicity by now, but we seem to be lucky.'

'Stop saying that!' Angela hissed angrily. 'This race isn't won, yet. Not now anyway,' and she glared at her brother.

'We are the champions! We are the champions! No time for losers, cause we are the champions of the wooooorrrrld!'

Seamus and Dean came in, singing loudly, while holding the poll results in their hands. Angela threw a serious fit and both men sat down at the table quietly. While Seamus raised his thumb up to Hermione, Dean made a motion of zipping his mouth shut – all behind the fuming Angela's back, of course.

Victoria gave Hermione an update on the schedule. 'We have only one minor change in mind and that is this Friday. There is a Ball at St. Mungo's celebrating the opening of the long expected, specialised Children's Wing and we've accepted the invitation on yours and Viktor's behalf.'

Hermione nodded in accordance.

'Well, it would be strange for us not to show considering how much money Hermione has donated to the hospital in the past,' Viktor said smiling.

Angela's eyes shot daggers at him, and Viktor's smile died out instantaneously. Hermione raised her eyebrows but decided to wait till later to ask Viktor what that was about, while she corrected his previous statement. 'You mean how much money you have secretly donated in my name behind my back, while we were still in Bulgaria, in order to be used as a publicity stunt during this campaign.'

'Shh… you're giving away all the family secrets in politics, dear,' Viktor responded in mock shock.

'Yes, Viktor,' Victoria said coolly. 'Why don't you tell everyone how to behave properly?'

Hermione's eyes widened, and she glanced from the now embarrassed-looking Viktor to his sisters, who apparently were both pissed at him. She wasn't surprised about Angela, because the witch was always in a state of hyper alertness and nervousness these days. But Victoria usually was the epitome of calmness, and she never had seen her act this cold to her brother before. This was definitely something she and Viktor needed to discuss once they got to the privacy of their home.

'Who is organising this Ball?' Hermione asked, interested.

She hoped it would steer the attention of everyone into a different direction instead of whatever fight they'd obviously been having. So far, it seemed the other inhabitants of the kitchen had been unaware of the cold atmosphere between the Krums, but it wouldn't stay that way if they kept behaving this obvious. And it wouldn't do the general morale any good. Angela alone most could handle, but if all three Krums started acting like her, people were bound to bolt to higher ground for safety.

Dean pulled the invitation from the pile on the table. 'I believe it is the same person who donated the wing to St. Mungo's in the first place,' Dean muttered, and his eyes scanned the invitation for the name.

'Remember Canada, Victoria?' Angela asked grimly. 'Things were also going wonderful there. Right until the bomb dropped and we lost with the largest numbers anyone has ever seen.'

'Yeah, I remember Canada very well,' Victoria replied equally grim.

'We are doomed,' Angela said darkly.

Angela Krum spoke that sentence at the exact same time when Dean answered Hermione's question with two very memorable words.

'Tom Riddle.'


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's note:** I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed: Rena Katsueki, FA-AL, SpeedDemon315, Summer Leah, bene elim, Jen103, BlueSkyHeaven, ToryTigress92, ilovesiriusorionblack, GoldenTresses91, rosiline, blindfaithoperadiva, Noon's Phoenix, Agent Twinkle Toes, WeBuildThenWeBreak, shinobinaraku, XellamyBB.

Sorry to all those who I replied to I would have this chapter done within a week's time. *coughs* It took a wee bit longer. *coughs* Promises never to guess ever again how long it's going to take her to update. *coughs* But here it is, extra long to make up for the time delay. XD

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_With Special Thanks to my Almighty Beta Serpent In Red. ;-)_

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* * *

**Masters of Manipulation Part Two**

**Chapter 5**

Brushing the dust and ashes off her clothes, Hermione turned to Viktor, who arrived back in their living room right after her.

'What happened between you and your sisters?'

Viktor stared at her, but didn't say a thing. He stood there, motionless, debris from the hearth settling on his clothes.

'Come on, Viktor. It was obvious you three had a serious row. I've never seen Victoria act like that around you before. What's going on?'

'Who is the wizard you're so worried about?'

She closed her eyes briefly and sighed. 'I already told you–' she began tiresomely.

'I hired an assassin,' he interrupted abruptly.

Hermione's jaw dropped. For a second, her heart stopped and fear rushed through her.

'She was murdered and found chopped to pieces in Knockturn Alley,' he continued matter-of-factly.

She let out the breath she'd been holding and relaxed, until she realised that even though this meant Tom was still alive and well, this meant Tom was still alive and well … _**after**_ finding out someone tried to kill him. Oh crap.

'You need to–'

'Have you gone insane!' Hermione yelled. 'I–I…' she growled, pulling on her hair. 'I told you to stay out of this! I told you how dangerous it was, and you go behind my back and hire an assassin? I can't believe it; I just can't believe it,' she ranted, pacing to and fro between the couch and the window. 'Great, just great. Like I don't have enough on my mind, like I am not worried sick about your safety already, but you had to go and attach a giant bull's eye to your back.' She halted and glared at him. 'I am correct in assuming this now dead assassin knew who hired her?'

Viktor nodded silently.

'Wonderful, it didn't occur to your feeble mind to use an alias?' she snarled furiously.

Hermione had no idea her words were an exact copy of what Victoria had said to her brother. Only she'd been worried about Aurors following the trail back to him and the subsequent publicity killing every chance of Hermione to get elected. Publicity and elections were, however, the last thing on the candidate's mind. No, her mind raced over the possible retaliations Viktor's action would undoubtedly trigger in Tom Riddle.

'If you'd only told me who he was, he could be dead now and your problems would be over,' he responded, clenching his jaw.

A cold laugh left Hermione's lips. It was so unlike her that it made his skin crawl.

'Your assassin obviously found out his identity or got sloppy in her investigation and made him notice her. If you think for a second, she'd still be alive if she'd known from the start whom you wanted her to execute, then you're living in a dream world. She was dead the moment she accepted this assignment from you. And you'd better pray she didn't talk before she died – though, considering his skills, I find that highly unlikely. No, this,' she shook her head, 'this only proves how right I was not to tell you. Really, Viktor, an assassin?' she snorted. 'Don't you think that if I wanted him dead, I would have arranged it by now? Gee, let's see, I am friends with Prince Vishna Vasuki. He could sent a brigade of vampires at T-him.'

_Tim?_

'Not to mention that I really don't need the assistance. It would be relatively easy for me to get close to him and use the Killing Curse myself,' she added casually, like it was all in a day's work. 'But you had to go out and be stupid. How the hell am I going to fix this?' she asked herself, frowning.

'Just tell me who the hell it is!' he yelled, frustrated.

'So what? So you can do some ignorant male thing and end up dead as well?' she snorted disparagingly.

_Undoubtedly in the most slow and horrific manner Tom can come up with, _she considered, worried_._

She placed her hands in her sides and stared out the window, going over every option available to prevent this situation from escalating – preferably one that didn't include her actually having to have a conversation about it with Tom. This was all just bloody wonderful. As if those vampires weren't causing her enough headaches already, now her husband had to add himself to the list. And …

Vampires? Vampires! Riddle planned to meet with Bárthory. A devious smile erupted on her face, until she heard Viktor repeating his impossible solution – a solution she needed to kill here and now. All this needed to vanish from existence.

'I said, so we can leak to Harry who killed Marscha.'

Slowly, she turned around and approached Viktor. He almost took a step back when he saw her posture and that frightening blank expression on her face. There was just something about her in these moments that scared him to death, and he'd never seen her act like that towards him before.

'We,' she started, pricking her finger in his chest, 'are not leaking anything. I-' she paused, holding up her hand to stop him from speaking. 'I will deal with this. I take it you shared this information with Victoria and Angela, and it's why they were pissed at you?'

'Yes, and they feel it's best for your campaign if this goes away quickly. Finding the murderer will-'

She shook her head, interrupting him. 'You won't be able to pin it on him. He'll have an excellent alibi, and seeing he most likely knows who hired Marscha,' she rolled her eyes and shook her head again in a tiresome gesture, 'any attempts to get him implicated in this murder will no doubt result in Aurors knocking on our door instead of his. No, I'll make this go away. Is there anyone else, besides Victoria and Angela, who knows about this?'

'No.'

'How did you contact this assassin?'

'By Muggle phone.'

Hermione sighed. She should have never introduced the Krums to those devices. Although the Wizarding World was mainly ignorant to them, Harry most certainly wasn't and neither was the Head of the Unspeakables, Shirley Moran. Moran was a Muggle-born witch and would know how easily phone records could be found, especially if you added magic to the mix. But if she could work fast, she could erase any possibility of them tracing it back to the Krums by using Rowena Ravenclaw's theory. It was a good thing she wrote everything down as fast as she could after reuniting with her parents in Australia. Otherwise, she might have forgotten a thing or two.

'Just your cell?'

'No, the one in the mansion back home, too,' he replied timidly upon seeing her face darken.

She rubbed her forehead. 'Anything else?' she asked, staring him straight in his eyes.

'No, don't think so.'

'No face-to-face meetings, nothing else incredibly dimwitted you did that can come back to bite us in the arse?' she sneered deliberately to unnerve him, because she saw that flicker of a doubt.

'I don't know if Marscha kept any records of her clients. If she did and the Aurors find them …'

'If she did, I am not worried that they will still be there for the Aurors to find. Someone else will have taken them in order to blackmail us with it. Your phone.' She held out her hand bossily.

'But–'

'This is not open for a debate, Viktor. I don't have time to explain it. I need to act fast. Hand it over,' she ordered quietly.

Her tone of voice made him reach into his pocket immediately. When he looked up to give her his cell, he froze, for she had her wand pointed right at him.

'Her-hermione?' he stuttered.

'Sorry, dear,' she said coldly. 'Stupefy!'

After he plummeted to the floor, she sighed. She knew he meant well, but the way he was going about it was too dangerous for them all, and she had to make sure this would not occur again.

'Legilimens!' she cast, scanning his mind for everything involving his actions.

She then Obliviated any and all knowledge about the assassin, as well as some of his anxiety over her and Rose's safety in order to make sure he wouldn't get the same silly idea a second time. Hermione levitated him to the couch, conjured a pillow behind his head and a blanket to cover him up before Apparating back to Bulgaria. There, she put both phones next to each other and started casting. Her wand swirled in intricate motions and a bronze cloud erupted from its tip, obscuring the phones from view before they pulsed and blew into dust.

Now, all she had to do was Obliviate Angela and Victoria. With a crack, she Apparated to London and walked to the front door of Twelve Grimmauld Place, wand in hand. This was the easy part of her problem. With Tom Riddle, she would have to take a whole different approach.

xXxXx

In London, Moran stood by when Unspeakable Donahue whisked his wand at Marscha Simmons's cell phone.

'W-what,' he stuttered, freezing up in his motions when the phone's colour shifted to bronze all of the sudden.

Shirley leaned in, watching how a thick, bronze cloud enveloped it. 'What did you do?'

'Nothing, I hadn't started yet.'

**BANG!**

They took cover, but it was unnecessary. The explosion was so volatile that it turned the cell phone to miniscule dust particles, which showered around the entire Department of Mysteries without causing harm to the people there.

'Well,' Shirley said quietly, rising to her feet again, 'I suppose that line of enquiry dies here.'

Donahue looked around and drew his finger through the dust on the floor, baffled. 'What can cause something to blow up like this?'

He showed the dust on the tip of his finger to his boss.

'No idea, but I'd love to figure it out. That could be one very useful spell for our department,' she said thoughtfully. 'Donahue, go to Potter and see what you can find out about Marscha Simmons's casting capabilities. Go over everything the Aurors went over with a fine toothcomb. See what they missed. She obviously cursed this item to stop others from finding out her secrets. It blew up right when you started casting. I want to know how she achieved this.'

'Yes, ma'am.'

'And Donahue,' she added, 'if you find anything …'

Donahue turned at the door and finished, 'I won't tell Potter; I'll come straight to you.'

'Attaboy,' Shirley said, smirking.

xXxXx

After her successful Obliviation of all the Krums, Hermione's campaign went on normally. Well, as normal as any political campaign could go. The only problem she now still had left was easily described in three little words: Tom Marvolo Riddle.

However, the easy description didn't make the problem any less. She had to find out what he had on Viktor, and then, make sure he couldn't use it. And, because she had to go to his stupid ball, she had to do all that within the next thirty-six hours. That was going to be a teensy, weensy challenge and it was bound to cost her. Sure, she had enough information from his past activities to get him arrested, but he could return that favour; so that was no viable solution. And then, there was the event itself, screaming, '_trap, trap, trap_' in her mind.

Tom Marvolo Riddle and his stupid obsessions with balls. Ugh.

Fortunately, she had been able to talk Viktor and the rest of the staff out of their unholy idea to take Rose with them to the event Riddle organised. It was a charity ball to raise money to support research and treatment for magical children's diseases and the staff felt it was a wonderful opportunity to use the cute, little girl in the press. Hermione finally had got support from Angela when she reminded the others that the cute, little girl could talk in a manner that would make grown sailors blush.

Viktor and Victoria, however, disagreed completely. They felt that if Rose was properly instructed, she would hold back on the strong language she'd picked up in Mount Krakatau. Even though Hermione knew they were right, she firmly told them no. There was absolutely no way she would bring Rose along. Especially not to an environment where she couldn't possibly watch her twenty-four/seven and which was a bit too conveniently organised by _him_. She knew that watching Viktor's back alone during the blasted ball would already cause her enough problems as it was. Her stomach flinched at that thought.

Unfortunately, she had that blasted thirty-six hour limit to come up with some kind of plan, which also made her extremely suspicious. The invitation had really been extended at the last minute. Everything about this ball was too–too … well, Riddlesk. It all appeared very innocent and true to form, and nobody else would notice it, but not a single detail was overlooked in order to make certain she would have no other choice but to attend. Hermione growled. He was plotting something. She was absolutely positive about that. She needed to talk to Sunny and find out what she could tell her about the power balance in the Dracul Order. The dance was already tomorrow evening and she had to be prepared by then.

She was almost done with her morning ritual when one of the owls she'd sent out returned. Vishna'd already written her a response back on the Dracul matter. Hermione opened the letter and started reading. Vishna's handwriting appeared sloppy and rushed; he'd left out any kind of greeting at beginning in the letter and started rambling furiously straight away.

_Have you lost your mind! Letting a vampire of the Dracul Order in your house without back up? You do realise Capet is one of the few magical vampires out there! Don't even consider listening to him for a second! He is a CONNIVING ROTTEN LITTLE SNEAK! This no doubt is a trap. Elizabeth would NEVER, EVER do something of this magnitude without Vlad and his tiny brain's approval. They are like two peas in a pod, two morons of a kind … stupid, idiotic, brainless Draculs._

_If Capet is telling you the truth and Bárthory is approaching Riddle to take over the Dracul Order, you can bet your life on it, Prince Nutcase knows all about it and is behind it! Prince Vlad not being a Voldemort fan! HA! Mind if I don't hold my breath on that ridiculous statement. _

_Vlad could be indebted to him. I don't know. And sure Vlad wouldn't have liked that … but he surely supported Voldemort's ideas and methods. Don't forget Voldemort gave the Dracul Order a significant amount of power when he was in charge. Vlad lost all that after his fall. He would welcome it back, I am certain. _

_Don't you dare take a risk and set up some meeting. I don't know why Capet is doing this, but trust me … DO NOT TRUST HIM! He was the next in line to lead the Dracul Order before Vlad the Fake came along and pushed him out of the leadership position. Even though Gerard is an unlikely candidate now since he is even older than Vlad or me for that matter, he might have an agenda here. You do realise that this alleged meeting could also be orchestrated by Riddle! STAY AWAY FROM THE BLOODY DRACULS! I can't possibly protect you there. This…_

And so it went on and on and on.

Hermione smirked at the letter. She had never received a letter from Vishna before that wasn't properly addressed and composed. The rambling, the excessive use of capitals and exclamation points, the jumping from one thought to the next, it was all a testament to Vishna's mood when he wrote back. And Prince Vishna could really throw a fit if he wanted to. You definitely didn't want to be in the vicinity when he did. She knew she owed a sincere and heartfelt apology toward any vampire that was when he received her letter.

However, Vishna did not bring much new information to light. It wasn't like she hadn't already considered all of the above before. The problem wasn't the possibility of deception; the problem was that Gerard could be sincere and right. And if she let the opportunity to prevent this from happening slide out of bias or because it was too risky to her person, it would be horrific. She'd have to wait to decide on what to do till Sunny got in contact with her.

Sunny could certainly look into matters a bit more objectively than Vishna. Especially, the part of Capet having been in the running for the leadership position of the Dracul in the past was something Hermione deemed important to look into. Perhaps Capet was searching for a way to secure the position for his offspring? But how could her having a meeting with Vlad achieve that? It made no sense at all. Hermione planted the letter in her desk. She would wait for Sunny's assessment.

'Mummy, could you do my hair? The brush is stuck.'

Rose stood in the doorway of her parent's bedroom and she looked quite desperate at her mother. The green handle of the brush stuck out of a bundle of brown hair on the side. It was firmly intertwined with her daughter's hair. Hermione patted on the chair before the dressing table and Rose quickly sat down.

'Let me see,' Hermione muttered.

She carefully lifted some of the hair around the brush, which resulted in Rose giving her an extremely painful expression.

'Sorry, dear, I know how horrible this is,' she said apologetically. 'Too bad you look so much like me. Your dad has far better hair.'

Hermione grinned when she saw Rose pulled up her nose in disgust in the mirror.

'Hmm… we'd better get some Anti-Entanglement Hair Potion for this one,' she added thoughtfully upon seeing the true extent of the disarray and she cast nonverbally: _Accio!_

'Mummy, can I take Wonka with me to James, Albus and Lily's?' asked Rose. 'Aunt Ginny said I could.'

'Sure, if Ginny said it was all right, you can take your Puffskein with you,' Hermione replied, catching the hair potion bottle in her hand.

She knew that Ginny once had a little Puffskein herself, and this was one of the animals Rose had as a pet that would not pose any inconvenience, unlike the little dragon some idiot vampire'd found suitable as a gift once. Rose, of course, had agreed with him, but Hermione had had a different opinion on that. And, of course, there had been the zoo trip with Ron, which had ended in Ron having a fit in his penthouse when it was suddenly swarming with tarantulas there. He'd locked himself in his bedroom and had sent her an urgent message, Order style. It had taken her several trips to bring back all the spiders and one very grumpy tiger. Rose had been very upset she couldn't keep "_Furball"._

'Are you all packed and ready for your sleepover yet?'

'Yes, and James said we can see meteors tonight,' Rose said, hopping in her chair excitedly. 'He has a telescope that can show the sky on a big screen. So we can all watch it at the same time. And he is going to teach me how to find the constellations in the sky. I read a book about them yesterday and I know all their names …' she paused, biting her lip, 'but I don't know if I will be able to find them,' Rose added softly, concerned.

'I am sure James can show you where they are,' Hermione said reassuringly.

'Yes, but what if I can't see it? There are millions of them,' Rose squeaked.

'Then it won't be the end of the world,' Hermione said calmly. 'What have I told you?'

'It's alright to make mistakes. That's how you learn,' Rose recited.

'Exactly,' said Hermione, and she kissed her daughter on the head. 'There. All done.'

She handed the hairbrush back to Rose.

'Thanks, Mum,' she said, stroking through her untangled hair relieved. 'I am going to get Wonka and my stuff and can we go to James's now?'

Hermione laughed. 'When breakfast is done, you can go.'

And so, after breakfast and coffee with Ginny at the Potter residence, Hermione sat in her living room all by her lonesome self. Viktor had a conference in Bulgaria to attend and he wouldn't be arriving back in the UK until tomorrow evening. Without Rose around, it was awfully quiet in the house. Hermione flipped through the newspaper, but her mind dwelt elsewhere.

She really needed to do something. Get the initiative. It was a bad idea, waiting around until tomorrow. The problem was she had far too little information. If only Sunny had contacted her, but then again, she knew where she lived. Why wait for a response? She tapped with her fingers on the armrest of the chair. It was ten o'clock in the morning, not exactly an appropriate time to disturb a vampire, but Sunny was no ordinary vampire. Perhaps a little visit?

Hermione stood up and summoned her cloak along with some other supplies. She spun around the spot and Disapparated.

_Will be back around noon, _the note on the vampire's door stated.

A disappointed sigh left her lips. Normal vampires were in at this time of day. Why didn't she know any normal vampires? She groaned and rubbed her face. So, she had two hours to kill until Sunny got back. What to do?

Maybe she should just go to the source directly?

It wasn't likely he would be in at this hour. His house would be empty, a sitting duck – a vicious duck with venomous fangs but still a duck. Her mouth curved up at imagining his face if she could nick whatever he had on Viktor. A devilish red glint flashed through her eyes, and she checked her bag to see if it contained what she needed for that visit. It was all there. Her smirk grew in size and she Disapparated with a crack.

_This was going to be fun._

xXxXx

Quietly, Tom Riddle seemingly stared at the iron wrought gates, but his dark gaze was really focused on his impeccable, unbreakable wards or rather his currently completely absent wards. His knuckles turned white from clutching to his wand as he wondered how it was possible someone had trashed them. They were supposed to trap anyone who dared entering his house and the theory behind them was known to no one but …

He scowled and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a second.

_Granger!_

Whipping his wand around above his head, he investigated the area for any magical traps before proceeding to pace through the gates. Flashing his wand at the house, the front door slammed open, but what he saw inside did nothing to appease his temper. No, it heightened it significantly, for she'd not kept her trashing contained to his wards. His living room was in shambles. A clash vibrated through his house. Abruptly, his head swivelled up in the direction the sound came from.

_Someone was still here and had missed his arrival. Sloppy, very sloppy, Hermione._

An evil smirk graced his flawless features and his wand swooshed, rewarding the area against unwanted Disapparations. He tweaked them a bit, so she would be in for one hell of a surprise if she tried to demolish them again. And then, he proceeded to go up the stairs soundlessly.

_This was going to be fun._

xXxXx

Crack.

Viktor Apparated into the hall of their home. He threw off his cloak and ran up the stairs to get changed a.s.a.p. He was late, too late. Hermione was going to kill him. He already had the feeling she was anxious about this ball for some reason.

'Hi, hon. I'm sorry for being late, but the last speaker wouldn't quit talking. I'll be ready in a minute,' he hurriedly said, passing their bedroom without glancing into it.

He ran into the bathroom and quickly freshened up before racing into the adjoining walk-in closet and swiftly changing into his more formal wear. There, he was certain he set a new world record in getting ready for a dance. He adjusted his tie slightly while walking to the bedroom.

'Hermione?' he called out questioningly and pushed the door open a bit farther, but to his surprise, nobody was there.

'Hermione?' he shouted 'Rose?'

No response.

He walked downstairs and checked the living room and the kitchen. He searched the entire house, but it felt abandoned, empty. Viktor began to get worried. Where could they be?

Rose's room!

Of course. He raced up the stairs to the tower. They were probably there. You couldn't hear anything from within that room. He knocked on the door, but opened it when there was no answer. A sharp hiss flared through the air and Viktor quickly closed the door just in time before the giant King Cobra sank its teeth in him. A loud thud came from the other side as the humongous, fourteen feet long, venomous snake hit the door and he felt it shudder against his back from the weight of the snake.

'ROSE!' he yelled furiously with his back against the door, trying to keep it closed.

The distinct thud of the outer door closing sounded from downstairs, and he heard someone race up the staircase. Finally, Rose came into view, a worried expression on her face.

'It wasn't my fault. She followed me from the London Zoo. I didn't do anything. I told her to go away, I swear,' Rose squeaked. 'Nobody saw the snake, Daddy, really.'

Viktor felt another crash in his back as the furious snake tried to break through the door again. Rose stepped to the door and looked at her father with a raised eyebrow, because he still blocked it. Reluctantly, Viktor stepped aside, scratching his neck nervously when she opened the door of her room and started hissing and spitting without drawing in breath. A vicious hiss was returned and Rose hissed back, pointing with her finger to her bed demandingly. Viktor saw the snake glare at him before it slithered away and coiled up in front of Rose's bed. It really was an outrageously big snake. He'd never seen anything quite like it. Rose turned around and closed the door behind her.

'Tyra thought you were a burglar,' she told Viktor calmly.

Tyra? She had already named the damn creature? Well, it wasn't staying. He'd have to talk to Hermione about this, but it was either him or that snake.

'Where is your mother?' he asked.

Rose shrugged. 'Mummy hasn't come home. She owled Aunt Ginny yesterday and said that she was on a mission with Sunny and if I could stay over there a little while longer.'

'You're mother hasn't returned from that yet?' Viktor asked, concerned.

'No, and she should have been back now. She promised I could ask James and the others over, so they could sleep here tonight. Aunt Angela is staying here, too.'

_Not with that snake she isn't,_ Viktor decided, scared at the thought.

The front door slammed again. 'Viktor? Rose! I am home!' Hermione shouted.

Rose wanted to run downstairs, but Viktor grabbed the little girl by her arm and stopped her.

'No, Rose. I need to talk with your mother first. Why don't you wait in your room?'

Disgruntled, Rose stamped back into her room, obviously angry about not getting the opportunity to work on her mother first about her newfound pet. Viktor heard the short burst of hissing before the door flew shut, and he walked down the stairs thinking that this was getting ridiculous. But when he saw his wife, he froze in shock and all thoughts about pet snakes were forgotten. Hermione was covered in blood and there were several scraps and bruises visible.

'What happened to you?' he asked, running to her.

Hermione looked up from the dresser in the hall she was leaning against to take off her boots. Viktor noticed with concern that her movement upwards went a bit staggering, like she had some issues in moving normally and he grabbed her arm to help her stay upright.

'Don't worry, hon. You should have seen the other guy,' she said, smiling at him.

Her little trip with Sunny had been just as successful as her "visit" to Riddle's mansion. She had thoroughly destroyed all evidence he had collected leading to Viktor in Marscha's case, and she knew much more about the power balance inside the Dracul Order now. Sunny had dragged her along to some "harmless" vampire gatherings in Italy and France, so she could show off her fighting skills and impress some of the more influential vampires within the Dracul Order, which according to Sunny would be imperative if she wanted to get out of her meeting with Vlad alive. Sunny'd even promised to go with her, which was even more helpful.

But Hermione's satisfied thoughts were interrupted abruptly by Viktor's irritated growl.

'Can't you give me a damn straightforward answer for once?'

Hermione glanced at him in surprise.

'What are you so upset about?' she asked curiously.

'Oh, I don't know. I come home to an empty house to find a ridiculously large animal in Rose's room that attacks me; then, I learn you've been missing for days; and now, you look like you went through World War Three!'

'Rose brought another pet home?' Hermione asked, amused.

'Yes, a blasted, enormous snake!' Viktor exclaimed, his voice somewhat higher than normal.

Hermione shrugged, uncaring. 'It figures,' she muttered underneath her breath.

'It figures, it figures,' Viktor repeated furiously. 'That thing nearly killed me. It is like this big!' He spread his arms as wide as he could. 'And it goes by the name Tyra.'

'Tyra?' Hermione said, laughing.

'It's not funny.'

'Sure it is. By naming it, she made it more difficult for us to get rid of it.'

'She can't keep it.'

'We'll bring it back from where it came … tomorrow,' Hermione said soothingly.

'No, no,' said Viktor, slightly hysterical. 'It has to go tonight. I am not sleeping in this house while that poisonous monster is crawling around.'

'Not all snake are venomous, Viktor. The big ones usually aren't, if it is as big as you claim it to be.'

'Oh great, so, I am supposed to be relieved that if it can't poison me, it can always strangle me to death. You're not helping matters, Hermione. We've done everything we could to prevent people from realising Rose isn't mine. You even fooled around with her age to make sure things wouldn't add up. And you've been extremely lucky she has your vertical genes, because otherwise, nobody would buy her age.'

'She isn't as vertically challenged as I am,' Hermione softly said. 'I've been feeding her a Growth-Halting Potion. She would be taller than Albus if nature had taken its course.'

He stared at Hermione in astonishment. 'Are you crazy, giving her a potion like that?'

'It's like you said, Viktor. Otherwise, her length would have given up the truth. And it is not like the potion will prevent her from reaching her true height. It will only take longer. I already get a lot of questions concerning her intelligence and the kind of books she is already reading. I can't use any more variables in the mix.'

'Then you need to do something about that snake because I am telling you, that animal is a dead giveaway. It's not like I have any Parseltongues in the family and everyone knows it is a hereditary ability.'

'I didn't say she could keep the snake. It's just we don't have the time right now to bring this, no doubt, foreign animal back to where it came from. So, it will have to stay where it is for the time being. I'll place some wards around Rose's room to prevent it from leaving and I'll talk to Rose about it, find out how it got here before she starts a collection.'

'Please do,' he replied, seriously disturbed by that last idea.

'So, you're alright with waiting until tomorrow?' she asked while she carefully started climbing the stairs, knowing full well Viktor would fold with regards to how she wanted to handle the situation.

'As long as you make sure it can't leave her room!' he finally shouted out after his wife.

Hermione smiled. She knew he'd give in, _eventually_. He really was a kind man, too kind for her taste, but their marriage was a charade anyway. It didn't matter that she wasn't attracted to him. She cast a cleansing spell on herself to become a bit more presentable to Rose when her kind husband reminded her of something that had conveniently slipped her mind.

'And hurry up; we're already late for that ball we were invited to!'

Hermione groaned. She had totally forgotten about _that_ due to her little excursion with Sunny. She knocked on Rose's bedroom door, thinking she should have stayed away a bit longer, because then, she would have been able to avoid the blasted event all together. The door swung open and Rose gave her a pleading look.

'Hi, Mummy. This is Tyra,' she said ever so politely.

The snake raised its head showing the distinctive cobra hood when it nodded to Hermione in a similar polite manner. Apparently, Viktor was right; it was a venomous snake after all.

'Hello, Tyra,' Hermione responded calmly.

Rose ushered the snake to go to the side so her mother could enter. Tyra slithered away and coiled up underneath the windowsill. Hermione smirked at this display of "look at the very well trained pet I got". Rose was obviously trying hard to impress her so she could keep it. The snake was an at least fourteen feet long, yellow-olive coloured King Cobra. It had a pale yellow veneer and it was most certainly not an indigenous snake to the UK.

'A King Cobra … where did you stumble upon a cobra, Rose?' she asked her daughter.

Hermione saw how Rose bit her lip and shuffled on her feet, while her eyes darted to the ceiling. She was no doubt trying to come up with some great, fantastic story that would exonerate her from any possible blame in relation to the big snake being in her room.

'Tyra has escaped from the London Zoo … all by herself … and we met when I was walking home from James's. And she was really cold from having travelled so far … so… er … she asked if she could stay over … and I said no, but she came anyway, because … bad people are trying to kill her … and well, it's too cold outside for her … and we have a fireplace … and she likes it here and wanted to stay … but I told her to go away. Mummy, really, I did.'

Rose looked positively delighted with her own explanation.

Hermione barely stifled her laughter, but she was able to say in a firm tone of voice, 'I see. So Tyra followed you here all by herself?'

Rose nodded affirmatively. 'Yes, she is a King Cobra from India and she wanted to go home.'

'Well, I suppose we can always Apparate her to India,' Hermione said casually, not making any comment about the fact that upon the road from London to India, Wales was a significant detour unless the snake somehow had learned how to swim across oceans.

Rose bit her lip again. _That_ obviously wasn't part of the plan.

'She told me she doesn't want to go home anymore. She wants to stay with me. Can't I keep her? I'll make sure no one else sees her.'

'Sweetheart, I doubt Tyra would be happy here. It is too cold for her to live in the UK, and her dietary needs will also be a problem.' _After all, __**I**__ don't__ have Hogwarts' teachers to feed it._ 'Why don't you ask her whether she wants to return to the Zoo or go back home abroad?'

'It is not fair. Lily has an owl,' muttered Rose, pouting.

'And you have Wonka,' Hermione reminded Rose.

'Not anymore. Tyra was hungry,' Rose countered, and she angrily glared at the snake for a second before she hissed and spitted without drawing in breath.

A few seconds later, Tyra replied.

'She wants to go back to India,' said Rose with an utterly disappointed face.

'Alright, well … I suppose it would be too late to travel tonight,' Hermione replied, feeling a bit sorry for her daughter's loss. 'Why don't you ask her if she likes to stay overnight? And then, tomorrow morning, we'll take her home.'

Rose immediately cheered up a bit and told Tyra the good news.

'Can she sleep in my room?' she added quickly after she was done speaking Parseltongue.

'Sure,' Hermione decided, knowing Viktor wouldn't want it any other way. 'And we can, later next week, go to a Muggle animal shop and find you a snake that likes it here in Wales, but only …'

'YAY!' Rose cheered.

'Only …' Hermione repeated sternly, 'if you promise to keep it hidden. You know what we talked about before.'

'I won't show it to anyone, Mummy, promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.'

'I'd rather you didn't, dear,' Hermione said, while lifting herself off the bed again.

'Now, I got to go change for the ball, and you have a guest bedroom to prepare.'

Rose gave Hermione a dumbfounded look.

'James and company can't stay in your room while Tyra is here, Rose,' Hermione explained.

Rose brightened up. 'They can still come?'

'I already promised they could, haven't I? And they can be here any minute now. I know your Aunt Ginny is counting on them staying over. So you have to tell Tyra that I am going to lock your room for the time being, making sure that nobody can enter and exit to bother her.'

Rose hissed the information to the snake, which lifted its head slightly. The two witches left the room and Hermione raised a formidable ward around it. Rose ran to the first floor to prepare the guest room for sleepovers, while Hermione went and got changed in a hurry. She knew getting Rose a snake was a risk, but she had a feeling that if she didn't buy her a small one, those big ones would keep popping up in her house and they were far more conspicuous.

Rose always had a strong will and wanting a snake at her age, while she still was lacking in her control over her magic, meant they were bound to show at any given opportunity. She remembered it from her own childhood. At age seven, she had wanted a cat but wasn't allowed one because her parents found her too young for the responsibility. In a week's time, every cat in the vicinity and beyond had found refuge in the Granger House much to her parents' despair. Nobody understood how they got in, but they simply did. When she got older and learnt about magic, Hermione realised what transpired back then, but at the time, she had no idea why the animals kept appearing. And she couldn't risk that happening with Rose. If anyone saw ...

Well, you didn't have to be a rocket scientist to add two and two together.

Hermione was busy healing some of her injuries when she heard Harry and Ginny dropping off their kids, and later on, their babysitter, Angela Krum entered the house as well. She was nearly completely ready when Viktor entered the bedroom.

'Wow, you look absolutely stunning,' he complimented.

She swirled around, smiling. 'Do you like the gown?'

'I prefer what's underneath, but the dress is lovely, too,' said Viktor mischievously.

Hermione snorted and kissed his cheek. 'I've taken care of the small problem upstairs. You won't have to worry about anything. I've effectively blocked that room.'

'Good, it would be unfortunate if we are to return home and find out that the snake strangled my sister and the three Potters.'

'Ermm … you mean unfortunate if the snake bites them,' Hermione corrected, while struggling with a hair clip that wouldn't stay in place.

'Aha! Told you it was a venomous snake,' Viktor said triumphantly, and he took a hold of the hair clip and pinned it down correctly. 'There, can we go now?'

'Mmm … I suppose we have to,' Hermione responded, making a face.

He sniggered. 'Well, after all the publicity Victoria arranged for it, I think we'd better protect our hides and show up.'

She had a different opinion on what was better protection for their hides, but followed him down the stairs just the same, her stomach churning nervously.

After saying goodbye to the children and Angela, they Apparated to the alley next to St. Mungo's and walked around the corner to stand in front of the large window of the department store, Purge and Dowse Ltd. Hermione nodded politely to a few passing Muggles while Viktor asked the dummy to allow them in and they stepped through the window and into the reception area of St. Mungo's. The wooden rickety chairs were all empty with the exception of three. An old wizard had his hand stuck inside what appeared to be an enchanted cookie can and he was unable to get it out, while the can kept shouting insults at him.

'You're a diabetic, old fool. You can't eat this many cookies. It's bad for you.'

Hermione noticed that the witch who sat next to him was knitting a sweater unabashed while occasionally glancing amusedly at the can when it shouted another insult at the reddened wizard. A few seats away from them sat a lonely witch whose face was completely covered by the hood that was pulled over her head. Hermione couldn't identify her or her problems.

'Miss Edgecombe?' a Healer called out loudly through the waiting room area.

Hermione only saw the back of the traitorous DA member as Marietta hurried out of there, leaving the Healer standing slightly puzzled, before he shrugged and moved on to the couple that remained.

'Welcome to St. Mungo's Hospital of Magical Maladies and Injuries,' said the Welcome Wizard to the Krums. 'You must be here for the charity ball. May I have your invitation, please?'

Viktor handed the man the invitation and the Welcome Wizard nodded and held out his hand to the door on the right.

'Enjoy your evening and please remember that all donations will be spent on research to cure magical diseases among our children.'

As they entered the door on the right, they walked straight into a more child-friendly environment. All kind of fairytale figures were painted on the waiting room wall. The big bad wolf chased three little piglets around a pillar. Several tables with enchanted toys were visible on the side, screaming at them to come over and play with them. However, before the reception's desk, stood tonight's welcoming committee. Healer Hannah Longbottom-Abbott spread out her arms and hugged Hermione vigorously. Neville, who stood next to his famous wife, smiled from ear to ear and they all started talking through each other at first, before laughing and allowing Hannah to start with the introductions.

'Welcome to tonight's "how can I get you to separate with all your money and give it to us" ball.'

Viktor seemingly pretended to be shocked and pulled his pockets inside out.

Hannah snorted. 'We are not interested in the small change, Viktor, but I'll take a Krum cheque any day.'

He laughed and said that wouldn't pose any problems whatsoever. It was when another group of people entered and Hannah welcomed them as well before proceeding.

'We will, of course, first show you where your money will be going by giving you a short tour of our new facilities. My husband and I will be pleased to answer any questions and explain everything on the way.'

Hermione heard a blond girl next to her growl disgruntled upon hearing Hannah's words, and she glanced sideways to the witch slightly puzzled, until she heard what the girl whispered to her friend.

'Just my luck. Lady Macmillan gets to tour the wing with that hot specimen of a man and we get stuck with her.'

'Maybe we should come back later,' her friend whispered as a solution to what seemed to be an awfully, incredibly, disappointing problem. 'Perhaps Tom will be back to do the tour then.'

Hermione felt a slight headache approaching.

'But what if he is already in the ballroom and isn't coming back? I do intend on snatching him up for as many dances as I can,' the other girl hurtled back at her friend, who frowned thoughtfully upon trying to come up with an answer that would solve their huge dilemma.

'If you'll all follow me,' Hannah concluded, and she walked through the door towards the new children's wing with Viktor right behind her.

Neville grinned at Hermione's facial expression and offered her his arm while they entered the cheerfully decorated and warm environment.

'Hannah took over the tour after we realised some were taking it more than once and not because they were eager to learn about developments in curing diseases,' Neville whispered chuckling. 'We are not at all insulted for not receiving the same warm and fuzzy feelings from the female and some of the male population.'

Hermione grinned at Neville's pun. 'Well I, for one, am glad you two are here,' she replied honestly and patted him on the arm.

Hannah talked rather amicably about the difference between curing children and adults. She explained thoroughly why a separate wing was important by informing everyone that even though children were affected by similar magical diseases as adults, the cures that worked for adults often had unwanted side-effects when administered to infants.

'And that is why we need your money to do research,' Hannah stated. 'Now, Tom Riddle has kindly offered his permission to show you around a part of his research company tonight. As you undoubtedly know, he's been a firm supporter of our cause and allows us the use of some of his latest high-tech labs at Summerbee and Wildsmith, free of charge. And tonight, we can show you all where we spent most of our time on. If you will follow me again?'

She tapped her wand on the corner of a bronze-embossed, highly decorative frame belonging to a human-sized mirror at the end of the corridor and stepped through it. Subconsciously, Hermione's hand darted towards her pocket where her wand remained as she stepped through the mirror with Neville and landed in a totally different environment. The previously warm, cheerful environment was replaced by a narrow, claustrophobic passage, and it was so brightly lit, she had to blink several times before her eyes were adjusted to it. They most certainly had travelled to another building. Hannah led them into a laboratory and explained to them the research developments they had achieved in treating the highly contagious spattergroit.

'I heard Tom is close to finding a cure on Vampirism,' the blond girl said smugly, intending to impress everyone with her inside knowledge.

Hannah looked somewhat disturbed but responded smiling, 'Well, that is one of his own projects, and I don't know how close he is on finding a cure. But I can assure everyone here that your money will be spent on children and children's diseases alone.'

'Hannah thinks it is a bit silly that Riddle is spending his time on finding a cure for something the inflicted parties are most likely unwilling to take,' Neville whispered to the somewhat shocked Hermione. 'I doubt you can find a single vampire who wants to become human again. They all feel they are way above us. Tom is truly wasting his time with that.'

But she wasn't so certain about Tom wasting his time; she had to disagree with Neville firmly, though she couldn't voice it out loud. She had an uncanny feeling as to why Riddle would be interested in curing Vampirism and it had nothing to do with "helping" vampires. If Tom could cure Vampirism before becoming one, he could safely do so and take over the Dracul Order as a vampire and revert back into a human at a later opportunity. Hell, he could even go back and forth at his own convenience. She really had to schedule an appointment with Prince Vlad, risks be damned, because if she didn't, she would be running out of options to solve Prince Vishna's dilemma before she'd even make it to the position of Minister of Magic. Damn Riddle for always sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

'So, where is this oh so important vampire research taking place?' Hermione asked Neville lightly.

'Oh, I guess it would be in his private labs, the ones at the end of the corridor,' Neville replied, waving with his hand in the direction offhandedly.

'Impressive, don't you think?' Viktor remarked, moving back to Hermione and interrupting her conversation with Neville, while he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

Hermione nodded back politely, but her mind went over the wonderful opportunity she had presented here. If only she could get rid of everybody else, she had a chance to find out just how far that blasted personal project already had advanced. It was the blond-headed girl who provided her with the perfect excuse.

'Is there a lavatory in the vicinity I could use?' the girl asked Hannah.

'Certainly,' Hannah replied, 'it's at the end of the corridor on your right. Just tap three times on the corner of the mirror with your wand and you will be back with us at St. Mungo's.'

Hermione saw the opening and took it. As everyone was walking back through the mirror, she excused herself to Viktor and told him to go ahead with the others. She slowly walked towards the end of the corridor to the door the blond girl disappeared into, pretending to wait there until the woman was finished using the toilet. Upon standing there, she waved to Viktor who was the last one to return back to St. Mungo's. After he disappeared as well, Hermione swirled around and quickly checked all the doors. One of them was clearly too heavily barricaded to be an innocent doorway to a harmless lab.

She pulled out her key-chain and unhooked the key that she charmed using Rowena's theory. It would unlock everything and allow someone passage, ward or no ward. That key had already proved to be very handy on more than one occasion in the past. She whipped out her wand, too, and waved it at the door before her, using a locater charm to determine where the charms were hidden that would notify Riddle if someone was to break his wards and enter his domain.

'Alright, where did you hide the alarms?' she whispered to herself out loud.

'Bottom right, near the extra locking mechanism,' a smooth, even, male voice replied in a familiar baritone.

Hermione closed her eyes and hit her head on the door repeatedly.

'That won't open it, dear,' Tom informed her, snickering.

Smoothly, Hermione moved the enchanted key back into her pocket and turned around, her wand still in hand.

Tom Riddle was leaning ever so casually with his right shoulder against the wall of the corridor. His arms were neatly folded over each other and he was watching Hermione with a broad grin on his face. It didn't take her long to realise he hadn't changed much since the last time she saw him. And all she could think right now was that looks like his really should be illegal on men like him, because he was still tall, dark and handsome. It was very superfluous to add that he was as good-looking and dashingly cute as ever, but that thought entered her mind just the same. His jet-black hair was not as impeccably neat as it used to be, but somehow Hermione found that to be a huge improvement. She used to always ruffle her fingers through it, knowing full well it annoyed him that she was messing up his hairdo. And his eyes, well, you could drown in those black pools of his, which was exactly what was happening at the moment. They stared at each other for quite some time in silence, before Hermione realised that she was practically drooling over Tom Riddle, _again_. And she started scratching her neck, while her eyes suddenly deemed the ceiling to be far more interesting.

_It is the dress robes_, she quickly excused herself. _Men always look much better in their dress robes. It really should be illegal to be this handsome._

'You look beautiful,' Tom said softly, drawing Hermione's attention back to him.

'Oh … well … thanks,' she said awkwardly.

'Though, I doubt that gown is suited for breaking and entering,' he added mischievously.

Hermione smirked and she raised her hand in an obvious mock apologetic manner. 'Well, I left my cat burglar outfit at home, so …'

'That explains the cat I found in my house the other day,' he replied, smirking when he saw her frown. 'You left the door to the garden open.'

Her lip curved up. 'Had uninvited guests?' she teased.

He took a step towards her, leaned in to her ear and added in a low, soft whisper, 'Is stealing things a new hobby of yours, Mrs. Insurance Expert Woodbridge? You certainly have improved since that utter fiasco in Venezuela.'

She ignored the way his breath tickled her skin and turned her head to face him. 'Gee, Mr. Thompson, Curator Extraordinary, isn't that a great example of the pot calling the kettle black?'

'As I recall, I did obtain the item in the end,' he replied, looking down at her smugly.

'Four years later doesn't count,' she huffed, putting her hands in her sides indignantly.

He snickered when he saw her poke herself with her wand. 'I say it does.'

'Oooh, well, if _**you**_ say so, it must be the almighty truth,' Hermione replied, rolling her eyes.

Tom didn't say anything. He just stared into her eyes in response. Time passed by and the corridor seemed to turn warmer and warmer to Hermione, but she somehow seemed incapable to look away. Her face flushed when his eyes slowly darted up and down her tiny frame, taking in every detail meticulously.

_Merlin, I really shouldn't let him affect me that much._

But her breath hitched when he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand before trailing his fingers down her neck until they reached the straps of her dress. Moving his long fingers up and down the straps, he smiled, turned his dark eyes to her brown ones and spoke seductively, 'You really do look positively gorgeous, Hermione.'

It turned silent again, a very uncomfortable and tense silence full of unspoken whirling emotions. They stood so close she felt the heat of his magic swirl around her, whispering to her of dark sinful deeds, tempting her to close that gap between them. But she remained still, her body so tense, she almost broke her wand between her clutched fingers. She was very happy she'd found a method against the side-effects of their bond to the extent that she didn't have to feel his emotions right now, because she was pretty sure she wouldn't have been able to hold her ground then. She was already drowning in his eyes without it.

Finally, her nerves couldn't take that looming sensual silence anymore and she broke it.

'You – you … er … look fine too,' she stuttered and really wanted to hit herself in the head for sounding this stupid and clumsy.

Tom glanced down at his clothes absentmindedly. 'Madam Malkin's,' he responded, distracted, and then, wanted to hit himself for replying so idiotically.

And yet again, all subjects of conversation seemed to have vanished when the silence returned with a vengeance.

Suddenly, Tom's arm sneaked around her waist and pulled her to him. Hermione clutched on to her wand, but she did not raise it. The door of the lavatory flew open just when Tom raised his hand to cup Hermione's face. The blond-haired girl stepped into the corridor and watched them with her eyes wide open. Shock was the only emotion that was evidently visible in her face.

He quickly grabbed a hold of Hermione's shoulder instead of touching her face and pretended to steady her as if she had almost fallen.

'Careful,' Tom smoothly spoke and pretended to help her regain her footing.

Hermione went along with the act and stumbled a bit, while she fluently moved her wand back into her pocket without the girl seeing she had it drawn and ready.

'Tom! There you are!' the blonde exclaimed dramatically after she'd regained from her initial shock, and she practically threw herself at him, kissing him firmly on both cheeks.

'Hi, Nicole,' Tom said charmingly. 'Have you met Hermione Granger?'

Hermione gave Nicole a short hand wave in silence, her face blank, while Nicole nodded in response to Tom's question.

'Oh yes, I have met Mrs. Krum,' she responded, deliberately vicious. 'We took the tour together, but I was so disappointed you weren't the one showing us around, Tom.'

Nicole pulled a pouting look that would have looked cute on a five-year-old and conveniently moved herself between Hermione and Tom.

'If I would have known you were here, Nicky, then I would have come straight over,' Tom replied with a dashing smile.

Hermione felt an incredible desire to stick her index finger in her mouth, but she restrained herself and merely looked amused at the puppet show before her.

'Oh, I know you would have, Tom. You're such a sweetie,' Nicole squeaked high.

Yes, Hermione definitely felt the need to puke.

Suddenly, "Nicky" turned her head around to address Hermione.

'Didn't you need to go?' she asked in a normal speaking tone (apparently, she was capable of acting like an adult) and the blonde nodded with her head in the direction of the lavatory.

Tom looked at Hermione tremendously alarmed, and for a brief moment, she was very tempted to leave him alone with Miss Subtlety. Her lack of an immediate response made Tom's eyes darken considerably and quite the murderous expression became prominent on his face. Hermione decided that leaving him alone with Nicole could have devastating consequences – probably not just for the silly woman, but for her as well. So, she resisted the temptation with well-hidden disappointment.

'Nah,' Hermione said, 'you know how it is. One minute you have to go and the next it's gone.'

Nicole narrowed her eyes at her, but she got a big smile in return.

'Shall we return to the party?' Tom said with a charismatic little gesture of his hand to the enchanted mirror.

'Oh yes, _darling_,' said Nicole exaggeratedly, and she hooked her arm in his, effectively blocking Hermione out of sight. 'I'm so dying to waltz with you.'

It took all Hermione's restraint not to burst out in loud laughter when the blonde practically dragged Tom away from her. However, Nicole did not foresee that this way she would arrive at the mirror first. And Tom handily guided her through, before she was able to make a fuss. Hermione snorted out loudly when Nicole was out of sight. And Tom's irritated face made her already too thoroughly tested restraint vanish entirely. She burst out in gleeful laughter.

'Are you done, Granger?' Tom asked shortly.

'Oh yes, _darling_,' she mockingly squeaked and patted him on the cheek while making her way past him to step through the mirror.

His hand came to rest on her back as he tapped the mirror trice. 'I look forward to dancing with you again, Hermione,' Tom whispered in her ear.

And strange little butterflies, that according to Hermione had no business being there, flew around in her stomach.

'I might be able to save you one,' she said, smiling at him ever so casually.

'Good,' he said, and she felt his hand brush her neck when she stepped through the mirror to return back to St. Mungo's and the others.


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's note: **I want to thank everyone for reading, fav-ing, alerting, and reviewing: ilovesiriusorionblack, tanzainy, Ijoan, WeBuildThenWeBreak, Ankoku Dezaia, Aastha Panit, bene elim, shinobinaraku, XellamyBB, ombeline, Rosiline, deathofaraven, RedPhoenix23, Summer Leah, patie, ToryTigress92, blindfaithoperadiva, siddyi, OrangeSoxz, BlueSkyHeaven.

tanzainy: I want to thank you for your more than kind reviews. I am glad you're enjoying the stories, their plots, and my characterisation of Tom and Hermione as well as the OCs. As a vivid procrastinator myself, I am proud to have been able to assist someone else in procrastinating. XD And I will most certainly continue with my Tomione writing. It's after all my guilty pleasure.

Seeing Vishna is an important character in this story, it's good to hear he is liked. He's ... well, you'll see.

Yes, Rose is Tom's. And Viktor like almost everyone else thinks Lord Voldemort is dead. I'll have to point to part one of this story. Seeing Lord Voldemort's true identity is not generally known, I didn't want to refer to Tom with an alias throughout part two, and I wanted to do a sequel to MOM1, I figured they could easily cover up that Tom Riddle and the dead snakelike man were one and the same person. In my story, besides Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, Pomona, Augusta and Minerva, nobody (in the Wizarding World) knows that Tom Riddle is Lord Voldemort. They think Lord Voldemort is dead, as Vishna said in an earlier chapter. (Yes, the vamps know who he truly is, but they keep mostly to themselves).

So, Viktor has no reason to think of the dead Lord Voldemort as a possible father. So, no, he doesn't know Tom is Lord Voldemort. He doesn't know the wizard Hermione is scared off is Tom. So far, he sees Tom as others see him: a benevolent do-gooder. And yes, Viktor is quite dense - he never struck me as the brightest in the bunch. But let's get real ... if you knew many people had seen him die, seen his dead body in the paper, witness how his fall was celebrated every year, why would you think of that man as the father of a child that's born years after his demise? LV would never make anyone's list. Sure Parseltongue is a rare capability, but eh ... it's a big planet and Hermione's been around the globe. All Viktor knows for sure is that she is on the run from a dark wizard who is Rose's father and the little bits he can derive from that or thinks he can derive from it, but that's it. I hope this clarifies it up for you a bit. I can't really go in further detail in an AN.

Just for future references, I always reply to reviews, but I am kind of apprehensive about putting things in chapters, because I am not certain everyone likes to be spoilt. Seeing explaining the above is not such a problem, I decided I could write it down, but if you have more questions like these, I recommend getting an account, so I can reply to you privately without spoiling those who don't want it and because there is a limit to the length of your AN being tolerated. You don't have to write stories to take an account here, in case you were wondering about it.

Yep, they had not met all that time - so they had some catching up to do. LOL. "When will Tom find out that Rose is his?" - sniggers ... you'll see. Here is the more. And I hope you'll enjoy it, too.

xXxXx

_Special thanks to my amazing beta Serpent In Red._

xXxXx

* * *

**Masters of Manipulation: Part Two**

**Chapter 6**

It was a very lively dance. Everyone was there, including the press. Rita Skeeter had already made several loud remarks of her unfitness to be Minister of Magic to anyone who would listen, but Hermione and Viktor had been able to ignore the beetle completely. They had politely posed for the photographers, until Hermione finally reminded everyone that this evening was for the children and not for her election campaign, which conveniently turned the sharks on the Longbottoms. The Krums made a generous donation to the hospital, and she thought she'd probably danced with every voter available when George Weasley came along and swirled her away onto the floor.

'You looked like you could do with someone who is actually able to take two steps without trampling all over your feet,' George said cheerfully.

'Well, thanks for saving me,' Hermione said, giving him a courteous nod. 'It is a most gentleman thing to do.'

'That's me: every girl's knight in shining armour.'

'Every girl's?' she replied in fake disappointment. 'And here I was thinking I was special.'

'Oh, but you are, Hermione. If it wasn't for Angelina, I would be hooked on you till eternity.'

'Thank Merlin for Angelina,' she grinned. 'How is she and little Fred doing, by the way?'

'They're doing great.' George's head swivelled around, but he didn't see his wife, so he replied, 'Angelina is somewhere around here. And Fred … he gets so big so fast. And he is really smart, too. The other day I got an owl from Professor McGonagall stating that Fred had just broken the detention record we set in our junior, less respectable years. Twenty-five times before the Christmas Break,' George stated proudly.

'What did you do?'

'I sent him a Howler, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes Style, naturally. Although I don't think McGonagall was pleased with it. I believe she thinks I am stirring the boy up.'

'Ridiculous.'

'Yeah,' said George, beaming, 'I don't know where she comes up with those ideas.'

They both chuckled softly.

'So … any enemies here you'd like to irritate, Hermione?'

'Why?' she asked suspiciously.

'Ooooh, you haven't been introduced to Ron's date yet,' George said deviously. 'Otherwise, you would know exactly what I was talking about.'

Hermione frowned, confused, making George laugh.

'Trust me,' he whispered. 'Try to stay clear of Ron and whatever the hell her name was.'

'You forgot the name of your brother's girlfriend?' she said disapprovingly.

'Well, you've got to admit, Hermione. There are far too many of them. I can't possibly keep up with Ron and his dates – I'd have to quit my day job.'

George twirled her around the spot. It was when it happened. Someone tapped George on the shoulder while he was stationary.

'You don't mind if I cut in, do you?' Tom asked rhetorically of George.

Before Hermione could interfere, he had already taken her out of George's arm and swirled her away across the dance floor. Those blasted butterflies returned to unnerve her stomach again when Tom held her close, and Hermione mentally scolded herself for her complete lack in judgement. However, after a few steps, the music died out, and she smirked triumphantly.

'Well, that certainly was a pleasure,' she said and let go of him straight away, trying to step back.

However, Tom had no intention of letting go and pulled her firmly against his body, tightening his grip.

'You weren't planning on leaving just yet, were you? The least you can do is give a bloke one dance,' he softly said. 'Besides, you wouldn't want to cause a scene right now. That would be really bad politics.'

Hermione glared at him, but he merely tilted his head in response, and she saw that very familiar joyous glance dart through his dark eyes. Yes, it most definitely had to be illegal. Once she was minister, her first course of action would be declaring that evil menaces should not be allowed to look this handsome or be this charming. The next song started, and she shook her head. She really, really shouldn't be in his vicinity too long. It was devastating to all her good resolutions.

'This is against my better judgement,' she said, taking a hold of Tom again.

'Naturally,' he replied with a small hint of a smile.

And they slowly glided away to the music, staring into each other's eyes.

'Nice hospital wing.'

'Glad you like it,' said Tom, while avoiding to bump into Ron and some girl.

'It's so … _benevolent_ of you,' she said and couldn't suppress the slight hint of sarcasm and suspicion from her voice.

'Why, Granger, are you accusing me of having an ulterior motive with this donation? Do tell,' Tom teased, amused.

It remained silent.

'Silence? Wow, a first.'

'Unlike some, I don't feel the need to make idle guesses,' she replied coolly. 'Nor do I feel the need to send a bunch of idiots trying to tear down wards they couldn't possibly comprehend, while decent people are having dinner next door.'

Tom frowned. _I am going to Crucio Ainsley,_ he thought angrily, but his reply sounded indifferent, casual.

'Decent people do not try to break into other people's homes and offices.'

'Mmm … I think I was entitled after you sent Larry, Moe and Curly to my house,' Hermione said dismissively.

'I have no idea what you're talking about, Hermione,' Tom evenly said, while his mind swept over all the wonderful punishments he could administer to the morons.

'Sure, and that device that emanated a temporal field in order to disrupt the wards had no connection whatsoever with Salazar's little theory on Time,' Hermione said equally blank. 'You should have known I would monitor the wards. I am quite surprised you took such a foolish risk, Tom.'

_Let me rephrase that: I am going to kill Ainsley,_ he thought furiously, but his response revealed none of his emotions.

'I'd like to see you prove it,' he said softly. 'Besides, I doubt you want my name to enter into the papers at the moment. People might guess whom their candidate is bonded to.'

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. She looked sideways when a whirling mist appeared on the dance floor, creating the illusion for the dancing couples of being the only ones present there. But before she could comment on the familiarity of it, she swirled around in George's arms.

'–been introduced to Ron's date yet,' George said deviously. 'Otherwise, you would know exactly what I was talking about.'

Hermione frowned, confused, making George laugh. _Godric, talk about your deja-vu. _

'Trust me,' he whispered, 'try to stay clear of Ron and whatever the hell her name was.'

'You forgot the name of your brother's girlfriend?' she said disapprovingly, shaking her head.

_Really, did I have this conversation before?_

'Well, you've got to admit, Hermione. There are far too many of them. I can't possibly keep up with Ron and his dates.'

George twirled her around the spot. And she tried to shake the ominous feeling that she knew what was going to happen when Tom came into view and tapped George on the shoulder while he was stationary.

'Sorry, Weasley, but this one is mine,' he said and simply drew her away from the stunned George. 'If I didn't know any better, I'd be sure you were trying to avoid dancing with me, Hermione.'

_Duh-uh, it took him this long to figure that out?_

'Whatever would give you that idea? Was it the hordes of fangirls I sent your way or the explicit "never ever going to happen ever again",' she teased dryly.

'Well,' Tom smirked, while he twirled them out of the corner and nearly collided into Ron and some redhead she'd never seen before, 'it seems like "_never_" has arrived now.'

'And "_never_" will end now.'

She tried to step away but was unsuccessful, because he tightened his grip. 'Smile, candidate Granger,' he whispered into her ear, 'there are cameras everywhere. You don't want to hand Gaspard Chauncey Wright's staff a sour picture of your face – not after you pretty much demolished his chances in that debate on Wizarding Education Standards.'

He snickered.

Wright … Wizarding Education Standards? But wasn't McAllister her opponent, and hadn't they debated the Statute? Her mind dazed, she tried desperately to make sense of things. Why couldn't she remember? Tom wouldn't make up such an odd thing. What was wrong with her? A sharp pinch in her arm brought her out of her introspective.

'Eh,' she objected, glaring at him.

'I can only avoid those photographers for so long,' he whispered, watching her with a frown on his face. 'I know you can act better than that.'

Oh yeah, Wright held the silly notion Wizarding Education shouldn't be changed, _ever_. She'd made mincemeat of his medieval arguments. Merlin, Hogwarts needed some modernising or it would go extinct like the dodo.

Relieved she finally recalled it, she plastered a phoney smile on her face and whispered back, 'I don't feel like acting, Tom. Let go of me now.'

'Surely, one dance won't kill you, Hermione?'

'That remains to be seen.'

He snickered. 'I had no idea you hold me to such high standards. How will I live up to them?'

'Very funny. Almost as funny as that time in Venezuela when you felt the need to expose my cover.'

'Venezuela? Don't you mean Brazil?'

She furrowed her brow and looked down, confused. Brazil? But she was certain … oh yeah, he was right. The Embassy Ball had happened in Brazil. All the travelling around must have made her mix up events. She glowered in his direction, but he merely quirked an eyebrow, while tilting his head with a charming smile on his face – the manipulator, he knew precisely how cute she found him that way.

'Don't you play coy with me, Riddle. I am not falling for it.'

'No, it's too late for that,' he stated, unabashed. He lowered his head slightly, causing his breath to brush over her neck, titillating her sensitive skin, as he whispered smugly in her ear, 'You fell for me a long time ago, my dear, and I do have every intention to claim back what is rightfully mine.'

She was unable to prevent the shudder that travelled through her body upon his words like an autonomic reflex. It made him chuckle delighted, which action caused her to shiver again. Hermione closed her eyes, trying to get a grip.

_Really, that damned, stupid, treacherous body of mine giving away my feelings about him, like he needed any more ego boosts. _

'I rest my case,' he breathed just underneath her earlobe before planting a gentle kiss there.

She let out a soft moan, until she recalled they were in public. The recollection was like being doused with cold water. Oh Merlin, what if someone had noticed? Quickly, Hermione opened her eyes in shock. Had he gone crazy? There were cameras everywhere. She was running …

Relieved, she noticed the whirling mist all around them, giving them all the privacy he had needed to perform that action. It stirred a memory in her mind of her days in the forties at Hogwarts, and she looked up at him questioningly. But before she could make a comment on his choice to use that spell now, he spoke up with a broad smile on his face.

'Well, this brings back some happy memories.'

Hermione gave him a teasing smile in return.

'You should have told me you enjoyed being hung upside down. I can always do that again if you insist.'

'I bet you do, Granger,' he smoothly said. 'And …' he paused and tilted his head, smirking down at her, 'if _**you**_ insist, there are so many things _**I**_ can do for _your_ _enjoyment_.'

Numerous ideas and memories flashed through her mind, making her body react in most inappropriate ways, which caused that smug smirk of his to deepen and her face to flush a deep shade of red. It really was annoying how well he knew her. Even though he couldn't read her mind, he still knew what she was thinking or could make a well-educated guess easily by her reactions. It was very irritating. Yes, _he_ irritated her. That was the emotion she needed to hold onto, not those other ones – not the ones focusing on his brilliant mind, his magical prowess, his handsome features, the way his eyes would brighten whenever he read something new and the way he challenged her … ugh, irritation, irritation, irritation.

'But you got to admit this is rather strange, don't you think?'

'Strange, what?' she asked, shaking her head out of her thoughts and trying to focus.

Apparently, words had come out of his mouth while she was lost in her stupid, mindless contemplation of all things Riddle.

'You and me, here on the dance floor … no sudden rushes of emotions and feelings of another interfering with your own,' he explained silkily. 'Kind of boring, don't you agree?'

'I prefer boring to interference.' _I have to focus – think of Rose and what's best for her. I can't fall for him again; I just can't afford to._

'Yes, it is kind of obvious to everyone you prefer boring,' Tom stated, and he nodded with his head mockingly in the direction where Krum should be standing, hidden behind the thick fog surrounding the dancing couples. 'Really, I think even Weaselbee would have been more fun to have around than that Quidditch Idiot. At least Ron has some spunk and a sense of humour.'

Hermione sighed. _Here we go again__._

First her parents, then Vishna, Harry, Ron, and now, _he_ had the gall to ridicule her decisions.

'I never knew you joined the Ron Weasley fan club,' she jibed.

'Touchy, Granger. Did I hit a nerve? Pray tell, does Krummie even have the slightest notion on how to entertain someone besides flying aimlessly in the sky to search for some stupid winged ball?' he sneered viciously, grabbing her waist tighter and putting so much pressure on her back that she could feel his hipbone in her lower belly. 'You know, I read his latest Arithmancy Thesis. He truly got hit in the head with a Bludger too many times if you ask me.'

'But I am not asking you,' she snarled back, ignoring the way his right leg was pushed between hers intimately. 'And it really is none of your business, Riddle. So stay out of my life.'

'Oh, I disagree, Hermione. This most certainly is my business,' Tom said lightly.

He twirled them around and halted on the spot. She noted that the same wards as before must have been set in place, because no one bumped into them while they were standing there, motionless.

'You and I are connected,' Tom continued in a low hiss. 'Our emotions are still entwined. There is nothing you can do to change that. Or did you think that blocking the future emotions from the bond would result in dissolving the bond itself?'

'You surprise me, Tom. Certainly, a control freak as yourself should be thrilled to finally be somewhat free of an outside interference.'

'A control freak as myself wants to be informed before others make significant changes to his life,' Tom rebutted.

'Oh, poor you,' Hermione mocked.

'You disappeared for more than seven years without so much as a single word.'

'You're not my mother, Riddle. I don't need to keep you informed of my whereabouts.'

'Ah, whereabouts …' he repeated in mock thought. 'Do you want to hear something funny? That day I woke up in Montreal and you were not only gone but also turned completely untraceable, something else went missing as well.'

'Oh?' Hermione said and pulled out the most open and honest face she could muster.

'Don't play innocent with me, Granger. I know you too well. You took it. Where is it?'

'You know it would be much easier to determine where something is if you would be a bit clearer on what _it_ is.'

Tom snorted. 'You stole the bracelet.'

'What bracelet?'

Her spurious façade was beginning to weather.

'Does Wadjet's Bracelet ring a bell? You know the one that according to the tablet lay hidden in the archaeology dig underneath the Pointe-à-Callière Museum. The one _I_ was planning on nicking,' he said quietly.

Hermione snorted. 'Are you suggesting I raided an archaeology dig? Because you slept in? Really, Riddle, you've gone completely cuckoo.'

'I am not suggesting it. I know it was you.'

'Because I left before you woke up? Pfftt …' and she waved her hand through the air dismissively.

'No, because of the use of Godric's theory during the break-in,' Tom hissed triumphantly and watched Hermione glare back at him disbelievingly. 'Oh, did I forget to mention that the Canadian Aurors most kindly lent me access to the site _after_ I informed them I was from the British Unspeakable's Office tracing an international thief.'

'Someone actually bought that bullshit?'

She made a face before shaking her head in shock over so much gullibility.

'I had the proper paperwork.'

'I am sure you did,' she grunted.

'The bracelet, Granger.'

Hermione smirked. 'I am afraid it wasn't there, darling. But feel free to search the globe for it again. It looks like Isis did destroy the item after all.'

'Do you think for one moment I will buy that nonsense you're trying to feed me now?' Tom sneered. 'You disappeared without a trace. It's a true testament you found the item.'

'No, it is a true testament to the fact that instead of having to flee yet another country with Aurors on our tails, I needed some peace and quietness.'

'Resulting in marriage and babies?'

'Yet again, not your business.'

'I told you a long time ago I do not relinquish what is mine, Hermione. Tell me, did you think about that when you married Vicky? Does he even know what you have drawn him into?'

'Don't you threaten me, Riddle,' she hissed back. 'If you so much as go near my husband or daughter, I will kill you with my bare hands.'

'Now, who is doing the threatening?'

'I am merely extending you a kind warning, Riddle. Stay away from my family or I promise you, I will tear your life apart.'

'Hmmm… and how would you plan on doing that, Granger?' Tom asked contemplatively.

'This conversation is over,' she decided and pushed him hard against his chest with her left hand.

But he held her too tightly. Whatever step he took back, she followed automatically, making sure she wasn't gaining an inch of space between them. Quickly, she twirled her hand in his around and pushed his pinkie back, making sure his entire body had to follow suit or it would break. She had him on his knees in no time. Tom obviously didn't fancy breaking anything in his wandhand. But she couldn't draw her wand either, seeing it was her wandhand holding on to his little finger. So they had a pretty uncomfortable stalemate now, as she hung with her body against his back – her other arm wrapped over his shoulders to keep from losing her balance, while her right arm was held in a painful angle, because she had to keep pressure on his finger.

'Brilliant, Hermione, but now what?' he asked her humorously.

'Now, we wait for the song to end and the mist to clear up.'

'And how will you explain this situation, candidate minister?' he teased.

'Do you think I care, right now?' she hissed in his ear. 'Do you think I am the one with the most to lose, _Voldemort_?'

That threat turned him silent ... briefly.

'Yesss,' he said sibilantly, 'yes, I think you are, _Mummy_.'

She held her breath; anger rushed through her, and her eyes flashed red. Just when she was about to make good on her threat and snap his finger out of alignment, Tom whispered something in the ancient Mayan tongue underneath his breath. She knew what was going to happen a split-second before he forced his magic through their joined wandhands, and that particular hex hit her like a lorry driving full speed on the motorway.

Immediately, the blockade Hermione had carefully built seven years ago to keep their emotions separate vanished, and a thoroughly massive jolt flew through her body. She gasped and collapsed on top of him, not able to do anything but focus on the overwhelming sensations of their bond forcing its way violently through her. Her body slipped sideways on its way to a painful acquaintance with the hard hospital floor were it not for the strong arms that grabbed a hold of her and pulled her into his lap. She felt unable to breathe on her own, every fibre of her being overloaded, and instinctively, she threw her arms around Tom and wrapped her body around him, knowing from past experience close contact would relieve some of the pressure.

Seven years of not having to deal with this, and then, to have it come thundering in like that all of the sudden– she was not prepared. Hermione knew she needed to find some way to regain control of herself, _quickly_, but her mind went completely blank. The world was swirling. She closed her eyes, rested her head against Tom's chest, and tried to focus her mind. And so they sat there, silently and unmoving, waiting for the debilitating effects to diminish.

Tom was the first to open his eyes. Knowing beforehand he would have to deal with this, he had come prepared and swallowed a potion that eased the side-effects of the bond on his end considerably. His dark eyes darted downwards to the witch in his arms. She was still clinging on to him, trying to regain control of herself. He kissed her softly on top of her head, while placing one hand in the back of her neck and rubbing it gently.

'Just breathe, Hermione,' he whispered soothingly. 'Don't be alarmed. I've got you.'

With a flick of his wrist, he whipped his wand around, and a flash of silver attached itself to the whirling mist in the room. It froze the very fabric of Time itself all around them without anyone noticing the spell's use. The mist cleared up behind the path of the Time Jinx, and slowly, all the people frozen in Time became visible. Tom looked around the room triumphantly.

Now, he was finally going to get some real answers.

'Ouch!' he shouted, disgruntled, and rubbed his arm on the very spot Hermione had just hit him painfully.

Because he no longer held her, she slipped from his lap and landed on her butt on the floor ungracefully, glaring daggers at him. Apparently, she had got over the initial effects as well.

'Have you lost your mind, Riddle?' she hissed, and her hand went to her pocket to undo the Time Jinx.

'Looking for this?' Tom said with a gleeful smirk on his face and held up her wand, twirling it around between his long fingers.

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment and sighed.

_I really should have broken his pinkie straight awa__y b__ecause that trick of his is beyond annoying. How on earth does he keep on accomplishing it? I've seen him nick wands a thousand times and I still can't figure out his secret,_ she thought, defeated.

Tom tilted his head slightly. His smirk turned into a small thoughtful smile, but his eyes twinkled deviously.

'Feeling defeated now?' he teasingly said, while getting off his knees and standing up.

She growled and rubbed through her hair without thinking, dislodging the pin and making quite a mess of the hard spell work that had slightly tamed it.

'Is this why you had to impair us with the other's emotions again? So you can check what I say with how I feel?' she said, craning her neck to look up at his tall frame, frustrated with the whole rotten situation. 'I take back what I said before about you being cuckoo. It's worse. You're nuts, completely off your rockers, totally and utterly mental.'

His face impassive, he looked down into her eyes and extended his hand to her in silence. She was far too frustrated and upset to be able to lower her emotions and check his, and that blank façade wasn't giving her anything to go on, so she growled, shook her head in disbelief and took his hand, grudgingly. Tom pulled her to her feet easily, and she grabbed a hold of his side with her free hand to steady herself and not twist her ankles on her heels.

'Crazy, is that what I am, Hermione?' he asked quietly.

She recognised the tone, and her head snapped up to meet his reddened gaze.

'We both know Legilimency won't do the trick in your case. So this is the only way I can find out the truth from you whenever and wherever I need it. Besides, I would hate it if you were to disappear on me again. So don't bother reapplying the Mayan Anti-Tracking Charm. I found a way to block its effects. You will not escape me a second time.'

'A second time?' she snorted, ignoring his eye colour. 'And you have the nerve to critique another's Arithmancy skills? I believe it was a lot more than once, Tom,' she said smugly and mockingly started to count on her fingers. 'Tokyo, thrice in Egypt, Montreal of course ...'

Her speech faltered when she felt the tip of a wand pressed against her throat.

'Wadjet's bracelet?' Tom asked coldly.

Hermione bit her lip. This was a significant problem. She had not nicked the damn item for it to fall straight into his hands again. There was no way he could be allowed to gain access to something that powerful. She'd seen what he did to the other items behind her back. She had to lie.

Tom shook his head.

'Don't, Hermione, I am not kidding here. You wouldn't want all these nice, frozen, defenceless people to get hurt now, would you?'

'Prince Vishna has it,' she blurted out.

Tom narrowed his eyes at her.

'You gave something with that kind of magical history to a _vampire_?' he snapped the last word in a clear demeaning tone of voice.

'Oh yes, I did,' she said, very pleased with her choice at seeing his reaction to it. 'I believe you know your way to Mount Krakatau?' she mocked. 'I am certain Vishna will be very happy to see you come. He has been nagging to me for ages that he is unable to get his Vampire Revenge on you. He knows you're here, but their honour code prevents him from attacking you since technically you weren't the one who did it. Just how many of his vampires did your other self kill again?'

'How the hell should I know, Granger?'

Her laugh danced around him carefree as if his wand wasn't pressed against her throat. She'd always been a hard one to intimidate, but their bond had made it nearly impossible for him. She knew his skill, knew what he was capable of doing to her, yet somehow, she never ever gave a damn. Sure, he could make her scream in pain, but afterward, she would just look at him with that high-and-mighty attitude, giving him condescending, mocking retorts such as: "Feel better now?" or "Do you still think you need to prove you can cast the Unforgivables to me?" or "Done already?". She never responded to his actions as others did. It irritated him severely. Yes, it did. It was very annoying.

'Must be annoying not knowing everything you did and everyone you knew. Ran into some more unexpected enemies across the globe?' she teasingly added, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Tom smiled calmly. He ignored that she'd just picked up on his emotions, too.

So maybe the Cruciatus Curse didn't have the appropriate effect on her. There were, however, other methods at his disposal to get her on her knees for him – methods that had worked splendidly on her in the past. He just had to be a bit more manipulative than normally. He stepped a bit closer to her and leaned down to her ear. She was very susceptible there. Tom licked her skin teasingly right over that one spot he knew made her tremble in delight, and he chuckled entertained when she responded in kind, blowing his breath deliberately over that same now wet place, causing goosebumps to erupt on her skin, while she swayed on her feet and closed her eyes. He placed his free hand on the back of her head possessively, while keeping his wand firmly pressed in her throat.

Submitting herself to his care, she tilted her head to grant him better access. A low, victorious snarl left his lips, while he caught her neck between his jaws. The rumble vibrated through her body, eliciting a sense of security inside of her that raised her need for him. She wanted him to claim her, desired it more than anything else in her life. His teeth scratched her skin as he slowly moved up and down her neck with his mouth, not leaving a single place unattended with his tongue, while his hand held possessively onto her head. Her hands balled into fists, and she dug her fingernails into her skin, trying to keep thinking and not lose herself to these primal emotions and forget who she was dealing with. It didn't help that the effects of their bond were back in full glory. Every single one of his touches was heightened due to it, and it was really hard to keep thinking when her body wanted nothing more than to jump the delicious male specimen standing before her.

'Perhaps I found some old allies as well, darling,' he whispered the information in a low seductive tone. 'So … you hid the bracelet there. Well, I suppose its unavailability to me at the moment won't matter. Once I obtain Sakhmet's Cane, I can use it to summon the bracelet.'

'Once?'

'Oh, did I forget to mention it?' Tom drawled, sucking at her earlobe. 'I found this small reference to its whereabouts. It will be mine soon.'

'This small reference wouldn't perhaps … _ooohhh_ … be among the cave paintings in the Rockies?' Hermione enquired, dazed. 'If it was, then let me spare you the very cold trip to Siberia. There is nothing hidden underneath the icecap. That destructive cane seems to have vanished beyond any trace.'

Abruptly, he froze, stopping that splendiferous thing he was doing with his mouth, and she paused, not certain whether she wanted to trigger him more and make him stop or just let him win if it meant he kept continuing doing _tha__t _...

What was wrong with her? Ugh.

'I hear the Egyptian National Museum has this rather nicely decorated beer goblet that used to be hers, if it's Sakhmet's paraphernalia you're after,' she added tauntingly, knowing perfectly well that one wasn't a part of the set he was trying to obtain in order to satisfy his stupid immortality fetish.

Tom's eyes flashed, and Hermione was very pleased when she felt his anger soar through her. It helped her regain her senses and not fall prey to his excellent attentions. She needed his dominant side to stir her own bossy attitude into full gear. She knew above all she'd become his biggest strength and his weakness. Around her, he let his guard down, but she needed to keep her mind on the job and not lose her sensibility. Because as much as she didn't want to admit it, the reverse was also true – he'd become her biggest strength and weakness as well, and she had often found herself in situations she'd never dreamt possible with him.

But right now, his fury about finding out the cane wasn't where he thought it was assisted her in staying focused. Perhaps it did come in handy feeling each others emotions after all.

Unfortunately, he wasn't angry about what she was expecting him to be.

'You saw the paintings, too, when we were there, and you did not mention them to me?'

Calmly, she looked into his eyes. His fury rushed through her, and all she could do to lower his rising temper was making sure not to add her own to his but force her calmness into him. She was certain he had not seen the cave the lead was in when they were both there, but apparently, he had gone back and found it then. She wondered why he had returned there in the first place.

'Pot calling the kettle black again, Riddle?' she asked smoothly.

'When did you check out the Siberian site?' Tom asked curiously.

She felt relieved when she noticed his emotions shift from his dark to his enquiring side. She had to stimulate that.

'Does it matter?' she responded, shrugging, deliberately not providing him with an answer to get that competitive streak of his in action.

'I'd like to determine which one of us was there first.'

_Always nice to be successful. _

'Oh, so now this is a match?' she mocked and snorted. 'Then I am declaring my victory, because I don't need to retrieve a complete set, hon. And I have every confidence Vishna will have hidden the bracelet beyond your reach.'

'Like I said, once I obtain Sakhmet's Cane it won't matter how terrific Vishna's hiding skills are,' Tom snarled, and he spat out the name of the vampire prince in utter dislike. 'Wadjet's Bracelet will be mine one way or the other. If you hand it over now, I will overlook your obvious, foolish attempts to hinder me,' he added softly.

_Ooooh, smooth, Riddle. Not falling for that one._

'Yeah, well … too bad I no longer can help you. I specifically told Vishna to hide the Bracelet from me as well. For "_obvious,__ foolish"_ reasons of course,' Hermione sneered. 'But feel free to try and threaten him. I'm sure he'd welcome the entertainment.'

Her breath hitched in her throat when Tom took a menacing step forward, causing their bodies to collide before he took a hold of her again. Their eyes locked, and his hand slowly caressed from her cheek to her forehead, removing a curl out of the way.

'You won't be able to stay away from me forever, Hermione. You can try. You may even be successful for a while, but I always get what I want in the end. And you are mine; make no mistake about that, my dear. Now, you can nick my evidence against your stupid brainless goon of a husband; you can Obliviate him of what silly little ignorant knowledge he thinks he has, but that won't stop me, Hermione. I–' He placed his finger against her slightly opened mouth, stopping her from speaking up. 'I can overlook that pathetic excuse for an assassination attempt, but I am not amused by him touching what is mine. _**That**_ stops today. I don't care how you do it, but make sure Quidditch Boy leaves his hands off you or he will find a very sticky end in an utterly dreadful manner. I had more than five years to think about this, Hermione. Believe me; I've got very creative in slowly killing him in my imagination. Just think what kind of pleasure I will take in making those delightful fantasies a reality.'

A possessive, demanding kiss followed that statement, and his hands roamed over her body, touching her where he pleased. She didn't fight him, but waited motionlessly till he was finished marking her. However, when he stepped away from her, she grabbed his arm. Slowly, he turned – his dark eyes stared impassively at the hand on his arm before he raised his gaze to her face.

'Tom, I–' she halted, biting her lip nervously when she saw the cold way he stared at her and realised inside of her that it was how he felt. 'There is nothing between Viktor and me,' she said barely above a whisper.

'Nothing doesn't create babies,' Tom snarled and stalked away with his cloak bellowing behind him.

A flash of his wand disintegrated the Time Jinx, and the mist reappeared all around her. Hermione noticed that her own wand had mysteriously made its way back into her pocket, and she vowed to never, ever dance with Tom Riddle ever again. It always ended disastrous for her.

Pigs could fly, but never, ever would she …

'There you are,' Viktor said cheerfully and kissed her on the cheek before she could stop him. 'There is a small photo opt if we leave through the front door now,' he whispered before looking at her more closely.

'Is something wrong?' he asked, concerned. 'Your hair...'

'No, no, of course not, everything is fine. I just forgot I wore a pin and rubbed my hand through it,' Hermione said, pulling herself back together and redoing her hair swiftly. 'Let's just leave.'

'Are you sure nothing is the matter?' Viktor continued, frowning.

She sent him a bright smile and nodded, brushing over her gown to make sure it was presentable.

'Come on,' she said, but before they took three steps, Ron and his latest girlfriend appeared out of nowhere.

'Hello,' the woman said and she shook Hermione's hand vigorously. 'It's so good to see you again.'

Hermione blinked. She couldn't recall ever laying eyes on this woman before, but the woman took a hold of Ron's arm and patted on it, before rambling on.

'I said to Ronald here that we just had to say hi to Mrs. Krum. Oh sorry, you kept your name, isn't it? Very modern of you. But I remember the Yule Ball at Hogwarts so well. It was _sooooo_ romantic. You two were just perfect for each other, and now look at you, back together again. It's all coming full circle, right? I am so going to vote for you next spring. I mean you were Harry's …'

Hermione looked in shock at the continuous chattering. George hadn't been kidding when he'd warned her not to go near Ron's latest date. She had no idea who this woman was, yet, she acted like they were old friends, and Ron wasn't helping her out at all. He stood next to Miss Chatterbox and said nothing. All he did was watch her, so unhelpful.

Viktor suddenly extended his hand in the middle of the woman's rant. Finally, she was going to hear a name.

'Excuse me, Granger?' Draco spoke up behind her.

Irritated, Hermione turned around. First Riddle, and now, that other bugger from Slytherin. Did she, by any chance, have a sign on her back that said: _If at one point you wore green-and-silver__,__ feel free to come around and pester me?_

'What do you want, Malfoy?' she snarled.

Shocked, Draco receded slightly, and his eyes darted left and right.

'I … I … Iwannntoapagise,' he quickly said.

Hermione narrowed her eyes.

'What?' she snapped and placed her hands on her hips.

Draco wriggled with his hands. 'I am sorry,' he said nervously.

'What?' she repeated, stunned. 'What are you babbling about, Malfoy?'

'I am sorry about everything,' Draco said quickly, and his eyes darted anxiously to the left of the room.

Hermione automatically glanced in the same direction. Tom Riddle stood there, talking amiably to a couple of wizards. Her face darkened; she was beginning to get some inkling to the origin of Malfoy's odd behaviour. She took a menacing step in Draco's direction.

'Any particular reason as to why you are looking in that direction, Malfoy?' she hissed underneath her breath.

Draco's eyes widened and he shook his head in terror.

'No, no, I just realised that I was being spiteful by supporting Wright, so I withdrew our funding from his campaign today. I just wanted to let you know. Bye, Granger.'

Draco rattled it all out in a hurry, before he stormed out of the room into the gardens of St. Mungo's. Hermione knew Malfoy was a coward, but he wasn't this frightened of _her_. Besides, that speech sounded incredibly rehearsed, like someone had fed it to him. She turned around and her eyes met the others. Even the obnoxious, talkative girl on Ron's arm had gone silent.

'What on earth was _that_ about?' Viktor asked, baffled.

'Wouldn't we all like to know that,' Ron said suspiciously and snorted.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, while she looked at Ron. It was obvious he was thinking the same thing she was thinking: Tom Riddle.

'I'll be right back with some answers. Stay here,' she added when she noticed Viktor and Ron planned to follow suit. 'You don't want to bear witness to what I am going to do to Malfoy.

And she quickly paced into St. Mungo's back garden, too.

Ron and Viktor glanced at each other with raised eyebrows.

'We don't?' Ron said incredulously.

Viktor shrugged, not having such a long "outstanding" relationship with Draco Malfoy as Ron to be disappointed about it. 'Plausible deniability,' he snickered.

When the door slammed close behind her, Ron turned his attention to Riddle. He noticed how he dropped a brief, satisfied glance into the direction of the gardens before nodding to some waiter standing behind the buffet. The bloke placed the tray he was holding back on the buffet and walked away.

'Hi, bro. Nice party, though a bit tame, wouldn't you agree?' George said deviously, as if he was plotting something to steer up events.

He blocked Ron's view completely. So, Ron stepped sideways only to find Ginny and Harry in front of his nose. They were pretty much attached to the hip. Harry had his arm wrapped around Ginny's shoulders, and Ginny had hers stuck around his waist.

'Where is Hermione?' asked Ginny pleasantly, eyeing Viktor, while studiously ignoring Ron and especially his date.

'Hermione went into the gardens after Malfoy,' Ron explained before Viktor could answer, thinking that was the most peculiar sentence he'd ever used in his life.

He moved around them all to see where the fellow Riddle had signalled to was heading, but he couldn't find him anymore; so he checked the floor for Riddle instead. Vaguely in the distance, he heard Ginny, Harry and George's reaction to his odd Malfoy remark, but his eyes finally found Tom Riddle. Ron frowned when he saw him exit the building with a group of wizards. Tom shortly glanced backwards to the room with a vile, satisfied smile across his face, just before the door slammed shut behind him. And Ron, who'd turned cold from that familiar expression, swirled around. He checked the room quickly. All associates of Riddle had somehow vanished, _**all of them!**_

Quickly, he turned to Harry and Ginny and grabbed a hold of them both.

'EVERYBODY OUT NOW!' Ron yelled, but his words drowned in the enormous, earthshaking blast from the massive explosion that sounded almost simultaneously.

xXxXx

Previously, in St. Mungo's garden, Hermione walked away from the grovelling Malfoy irritated. She'd followed Ferretboy in there to get some answers, but Draco's fearful behaviour wasn't giving her any useable answers at all, only more questions and suspicions.

Well, she would just have to go to the source of that behaviour and find out why on earth Tom was interfe–

'No, wait!' Draco shouted panicking. 'You can't go back in there. He'll kill me.'

_Promise? _

She sighed, removing the marvellous imagery from her mind's eye reluctantly, and slowly turned around.

'Malfoy,' Hermione menacingly said to the retreating, frightened figure of Draco, whipping out her wand, 'if you don't quickly tell me what the hell is going on here, then I swear: you won't ever need to be afraid of anything in your life ever–'

A humongous blast delivered a wind shear that threw Hermione across the gardens before she could finish her sentence.

She impacted on a large oak tree and plummeted to the ground, tearing the side of her dress open on the thorned bush standing beside the tree.

'Ummpphh,' she groaned, dishevelled.

But a loud, thundering noise smothered her groans, and as she looked up, she bore witness to the unfolding of a most devastating event. Within the confinements of the hospital's wards, the entire building of St. Mungo's Hospital of Magical Maladies and Injuries crashed down on the ballroom she'd exited only minutes ago. Dust and debris flew everywhere as it mingled with the bodies that had to be underneath the rubble. You couldn't Apparate in St. Mungo's. It was a security measure to prevent seriously ill and contagious patients from leaving unwanted.

Everybody had been there, _everybody!_ The Minister and his staff, the Hogwarts' Headmistress and several other teachers, Harry! The realisation how many people had just died in there hit her hard, while the dust from the building clouded her vision completely. By Godric, what had happened?

The answer to that was supplied immediately when a green light brightened up the area, blowing the dust that obscured her vision away. A large, green skull released the snake from its mouth as it roared in victory in the night sky. Slowly scrambling to her feet, she narrowed her eyes and her knuckles turned white from clutching to the wand in her hand. He'd eliminated everyone! _Everyone!_

She swiftly realised that Tom could take over the Ministry of Magic, Hogwarts and the entire country in a blink of an eye tonight. A cough beside her enraged her severely. Malfoy!

She swirled around and poked her wand in Draco's throat.

'No, no, please, I didn't know! I didn't know!'

'Don't lie to me,' Hermione hissed furiously. 'Harry saved your miserable life twice, and this is the thanks he gets?'

'All Riddle said was that I had to make you leave. He said nothing about blowing up the building, Granger, I swear! He didn't tell me he would do this. He threatened to hurt Scorpius if I–'

_The children!_

The loud crack of Hermione Dissapparating from the scene made Draco stop his frightened rant in surprise.

xXxXx

'Anyone else for more popcorn?' Angela asked the four children on the couch who were watching the movie intensely.

Crack.

Hermione Apparated straight through her own wards into her living room, startling the occupants.

'Rose, emergency leave, now,' she told the little girl on the couch, while stalking to the hearth and retrieving a box off the mantle.

Rose flew up from the couch and pulled out her wand immediately. She'd done this before and knew exactly what was expected of her. Unlike the others, she'd got quite used to her mother being in some form of disarray. So, that did not scare her at all.

'_Ooohh_, you're not allowed to have a wand and do magic yet,' said Lily righteously.

But Rose ignored her and flashed her wand around, while Hermione tossed the box of Floo Powder to Angela, who stood frozen to the ground, watching Hermione's dishevelled appearance worriedly. She caught the box nevertheless, but she kept staring at her dust-covered, scratched and bruised sister-in-law.

Noticing that Angela wasn't moving, Hermione paced to her and grabbed her arm. 'Quickly, go to your home in Bulgaria and travel from there to a safe location,' she ordered, while she directed her to the fireplace.

'Hermione, what's going on? What happened? Where is Viktor? You look horrific,' Angela protested.

'Voldemort is back,' Hermione whispered the three words so the children would not hear her, and she pushed the now pale-faced Angela in the hearth.

'But he is dead,' Angela objected feebly.

'Yeah, well, he never seems to stay dead,' she grumbled evasively in response. 'Go, leave, and warn others that this country isn't safe anymore.'

'Viktor, Victoria?' Angela muttered, watching her with dread and hope mixed together.

'He is dead. She is dead. They are all dead. He blew up the hospital with everyone in it,' Hermione said quietly, while tapping with her wand on the digital clock in her hand.

'Go,' she ordered to the woman still standing motionless in the hearth and planted the clock back on the mantle. 'I'll bring the children to safety.'

'But.'

'Go.'

The last word was spat out with so much authority that Angela opened the box of Floo Powder directly and disappeared in a flash of green lightning.

Hermione swirled around to the three Potter children who were watching her confused and somewhat frightened. A quickly cast Summoning Charm, and her robe flew in her hands. She threw it over her gown to cover the tear in the fabric on her side and kicked off her heels, replacing them with shoes she could walk and, if necessary, fight on more easily.

'Where is Rose?'

'She ran upstairs to get something,' James answered. 'What is going on, Aunt Hermione? What happened–'

Hermione raised her hand in the air, halting the eight-year-old's questions.

'I'll explain everything later, but right now, we have to leave. ROSE!' she shouted.

But the girl already entered the living room with a backpack strapped on and three extra bags in her hand.

'I had to get their stuff. They're going to need something,' Rose explained to her mother as she handed the bags to the Potter children.

Hermione smiled. 'Good thinking,' she praised her. 'Quickly then.'

She helped Lily and Albus strap on their backpacks. When she was done, Hermione lifted Lily up in her arms.

'Where is my mummy?' Lily asked; her lip began to tremble.

'Okay, everyone, now listen carefully,' Hermione said soothingly, ignoring Lily's question for the moment since the answer was so utterly dreadful and would certainly not improve her ability to keep the children calm enough for their transportation to go successfully. 'I am going to Apparate us all to a secure location.'

'YAY!' Rose cheered, her face brightening up at realising where they were headed.

Hermione gazed warningly at her daughter, who immediately zipped her mouth, but was still joggling James's arm around excited.

'I need you to hold onto each other real tight. Do you understand?' she asked the Potters.

Lily and Albus nodded, but James looked doubtful.

'We've never done a Side-Along Apparation before,' James said, concerned. 'Mum and Dad prefer flying. Can't we do that?'

'No, it is too far to fly,' she gave as an excuse.

Well, it was part of the truth. They were going to Indonesia, but even if it had been within flying distance, she wouldn't have risked it. Flying was far too visible, too open for attacks, and he was way too skilled in the air. It wasn't her area of expertise, and she surely wasn't going to give him even more favourable odds against her, especially since he knew perfectly well she feared heights.

'There is nothing to it,' Rose reassured James. 'All you have to do is hold my hand.'

James took Rose's hand questionably.

'Exactly,' Hermione said approvingly and took a hold of Rose's hand, smiling. 'Albus, take your brother's hand and hold on to my robe with your other hand.'

Albus quickly obliged. She checked his hold on her clothes, and satisfied it was good enough, she turned her attention to the youngest Potter.

'Lily, I need to use my arm to do magic, so you will have to hold on to my neck tightly. Can you do that?' Hermione asked the five-year-old that she currently held on her arm.

Lily nodded fervently and grabbed a hold of her neck tightly, burying her face in Hermione's robes.

'Why is that clock counting backward?' Albus asked curiously. 'Twelve … eleven … ten ...'

'Tyra is still here!' Rose squeaked, knowing what would happen if the clock reached zero.

She tried to let go of her mother and James, but Hermione held on tightly to her daughter's hand, and James had no intention to let go either. He was far too apprehensive about the upcoming Apparation to allow Rose her freedom.

'I got it,' Hermione reassured her now struggling-to-get-free daughter and flashed her wand. A dash of yellow flew upstairs and transported the snake out of the house. 'Tyra is outside, Rose. She is out of range. She'll be fine.'

Rose stopped struggling and let out a relieved sigh.

Suddenly, a bright light illuminated the living room.

'Mummy, the wards!' Rose said, shocked. She'd never witnessed her mother's wards being torn down before.

'I know, dear. Don't worry; I was waiting for them to take the wards down for me before Apparating us all. It's easier that way,' she replied calmly. 'Hold on.'

'Five … four,' counted Albus, showing off his mathematical skills, 'three … two … one.'

_Crack._

**BANG!**

The Granger residence in Wales blew up in the air with all the force it could muster. Hermione had waited for that exact moment, knowing the blast would prevent any outside magical interference into her Disapparation. She didn't want to "accidentally" end up in Tom's residence.

_Crack._

The vampire at the entrance of Mount Krakatau swore loudly when he spilt his hot coffee all over his trousers out of shock from the sudden appearance of the five people in front of him.

'Can't you warn someone before barging in like that?' he exclaimed, while jumping through the air and waving his clothes around, like he was trying to get rid of a rat that had climbed up his leg underneath his trousers.

'Scourgify!' Hermione calmly cast.

The vampire halted his motions immediately and inspected his clothes thoroughly before straightening up and eyeing the new arrivals with a newfound composure of elegance.

'You, humans, to what end do you pay visit to our realm?'

'I'm sorry, Kolya, but there is no time to go through the proper entrance ritual right now. You need to let us in immediately,' Hermione ordered.

She put Lily down on the ground, while holding her wand ready to defend herself and the children.

'No time, no time, there is always time to observe the niceties. You of all pe…'

'Riddle will arrive shortly after me. He can track me again.'

The vampire's eyes flashed, and he rammed his cane at the wooden door in the rock of the mountain.

'Mika! Open the blasted door in the name of Nikolai of Russia!' he yelled.

A click followed, and with a high screeching noise, the door slowly opened. Nicolai of Russia planted his foot against the wood and kicked it thoroughly open in a single burst of fury.

'Man, Kolya, relax,' Mika said, making a face at him. 'Hi, Hermione, Rose and … some more human children. Do they have the proper …'

'No time!' shouted Kolya, excited. 'Get ready for battle.'

'Battle?' Mika said disbelievingly.

She calmly stepped outside to scout the area for threats. It was obvious the female vampire knew of Kolya's tendency to overreact and blow up events, so she was not as alarmed as she should be right now.

'Quickly, inside, hurry,' Kolya said and ushered the children inside the mountain.

Rose didn't need any incentive to enter and dragged James along with her, waving happily to Mika as she passed her. Mika waved back and looked to Hermione for some answers, but the bushy-haired witch had her back turned to the doorway and was scanning the immediate area with her wand. Albus and Lily timidly passed both vampires as well, not daring to anger them or otherwise draw their attention. Rose's bright cheerful face helped ease them somewhat, and the Potters listened interested to her quick explanations regarding the Vasukis.

When the children were inside, Kolya pressed a button on his cane, making two large blades at either end appear. He flung his cane around and stepped back besides the casting Hermione.

'Any minute now?' he asked eagerly.

Hermione snorted, lowering her wand. 'Looking forward to plant that inside of someone?'

'Can't say that I don't.'

'What is going on?' Mika asked, pulling her knife out of its holster. 'Who is coming?'

'Lord Voldemort,' Kolya and Hermione answered in unison.

_Crack_.


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine or getting paid either.

**A/N: **I want to thank everyone who reviewed: medusaasaphoenix, Rosiline, patie, LeSinner, tanzainy, siddyi, ilovenat1995, vampirelover2009, FA-AL, hatami, Rena Katsueki, GoldenTresses91, blindfaithoperadiva, shinobinaraku, Summer Leah, RedPhoenix23, WeBuildThenWeBreak, sarahr85, BlueSkyHeaven, Aastha Panit, acceptedmisconceptions, ToryTigress92, Noon's Phoenix.

acceptedmisconceptions: Wow, thank you for your kind review. And no, it's never boring to hear how marvellous one is. *winks.* So, I hope it wasn't too long a wait after having put your vocal cords through last chapter's ending. *checks end of this chapter.* Ermm… well, that's not too big a cliffie, is it? *bats eyelashes in an attempt to look innocently harmless and honest, while finding some earplugs for herself.* I hope you will enjoy the rest of the story just as much, and I have the muse to Apprentice back, so hopefully I'll get that next chapter of that one done some time soon.

xXxXx

_Special thanks to Serpent In Red for taking the time to beta all this._

xXxXx

* * *

**Masters of Manipulation: Part Two**

**Chapter 7**

Silver lightning surrounded his tall, skeletal frame. His black robes flared around him in the wind of his arrival on the rubble of St. Mungo's. Death was here, but instead of a scythe, he carried a green leather book in his hand and a yew wand in the other. With a casual whip, he Disillusioned himself before taking in his environment with intense red eyes. At other times, his snakelike physique had really caused a … _disturbance_ among those who'd spotted him. It had been very entertaining to see the panic in the faces of those who presumed him dead, but then, that sighting had severely compromised his abilities to go about his business undisturbed, and that had been most inconvenient.

However, looking up into the sky and seeing his mark bellowing there, he figured panic had preceded his arrival.

_Perhaps now, Lord Voldemort arrived in the right time?_

The stench of fear and decaying bodies was a good sign. He closed his eyes and flared his slit-for-nostrils, relishing in the sensations. It had been a while since his travels had delivered him somewhere satisfying. His flawless, almost transparent forehead wrinkled in disgust as he recalled some of those despicable events he'd witnessed before. The worst one involved him and Granger dead for good because Potter had picked the greater good and chosen not to revive them.

Then, there was some silly timeline in which he was dead, and she'd married and made babies with Ron Weasley. He shook his bald head and wondered what kind of deprived mind would put her together with that moron. He'd thought things couldn't possibly turn out worse, but apparently, he'd been mistaken because he found her married to Krum – as if Weasley hadn't been a bad enough choice. Sure, he'd been alive in that frame and a Hogwarts teacher, but really … _she_ had a child with Krum.

He glowered. Anger flushed through him like a poisonous comrade, filling the air around him with the static energy of his surplus magic. Lord Voldemort did not settle for second best.

It was time to ensure his victory in all areas of his life.

Glancing at his mark one last time, he paced away with long strides. After all, he knew from experience that he only had limited time before he'd be thrown back to the past, back to Riddle mansion where a much younger Granger (who kindly had delivered this book to him) was lying out cold on his couch.

Besides, he'd got his bearings already. Apparently, the building of St. Mungo's had fallen again. Only this time, he doubted it had been due to lack of maintenance. His signature cold, high-pitched laugh echoed through the early morning sky, mixing with the green light that was far more overwhelming than the weak rays of the winter sun.

xXxXx

With a smooth, elaborate stroke of his two-bladed cane, Kolya swirled around and thrust it forward to the dark, cloaked figure that Apparated before them. Unfortunately for him, he missed. The blade swung over the man's head who had quickly bent down and was now swirling forward, grabbing the cane from Kolya before hooking it behind his ankle and throwing him through the early morning sky in one blindingly fast move. Kolya screamed in pain as he crashed into the mountain's hard rock surface before plummeting on his back to the ground. Meanwhile, the man followed in an impossibly far yet elegant jump and landed right on top of him, holding the blade of Kolya's own cane only inches away from his bearded throat.

'No!' screamed Hermione, horrified, her wand still raised at the empty void before her.

'Care to challenge me, Nicolai of Russia?' Prince Vishna hissed, narrowing his grey eyes at the red-haired vampire. 'Hello, Hermione,' he added loosely over his shoulder.

She nodded back politely in response.

Nicolai coughed loudly. 'Me, challenge a prince?' he said, shocked, and started to laugh. 'Do I look like an idiot who wants to be a ruler? I merely wasn't expecting your highness to return so soon.'

'He wasn't aiming at you,' Hermione clarified.

'He wasn't aiming at anyone,' Vishna sneered, degradingly. 'You can't hit zilch with an exaggerated swing like that.'

'I killed Moroc with that swing,' Kolya grumbled indignantly.

'And don't we all get tired of hearing that old story,' Mika replied, sighing.

Vishna snorted. He extended his hand to the vampire on the ground and pulled him up. 'As much as I love seeing you, Hermione, don't you have business to attend to in the UK?'

'Not anymore,' she replied, looking grim. 'Riddle took over the country. I am expecting him to Apparate here with a bunch of his idiotic followers any minute now.'

'I see,' said Vishna calmly, and he pulled out his wand. 'And you all thought it was a good idea to keep the door open and invite him in?'

Disturbed, Hermione looked over her shoulder and noticed that, indeed, Vishna was right: The door to the mountain still stood slightly ajar. Mika voiced the thought that spun through her mind.

'I thought you closed it, Kolya?'

Still in the process of brushing the dust of his clothes, Nicolai looked up and glanced from the door to Mika.

'I gave it a good shove,' he replied, raising his hands in the air apologetically.

'Not good enough. Must be because Shavira still hasn't oiled the blasted hinges,' Mika grunted and walked to the door in short, abrupt paces.

'I'll deal with Shavira later,' Vishna spoke, glaring at the two vampires. His dark-brown, hedgehog hair almost seemed to become pricklier with his deteriorating mood. 'Right now, you two were in charge of the mountain's security and left it wide open to everyone.'

'She just got here,' responded Kolya, nodding to Hermione. 'We had to take the children in first.'

Overly demonstrative, as if the two shorter vampires were really blocking his view, Prince Vishna looked around them to the doorway where no children stood in sight and raised his bristly eyebrows.

'Well, of course, they would be farther indoors now,' Kolya muttered under his breath in protest while Mika kicked the door shut firmly.

'Riddle knows you came to us?' Vishna asked Hermione matter-of-factly, ignoring the matters that could be dealt with later.

'Every aspect of our bond is completely intact again, so yes.'

'That means you also know where he is.'

Hermione concentrated for a moment. Shocked, she looked up. 'He is in Transylvania!'

'Bloody Vlad,' Vishna muttered through gritted teeth. 'The next time I see that despicable excuse for a vampire, I will take a hold of his pathetic, little neck and squeeze real hard.' But Vishna quickly pulled himself out of his introspective muttering and told the others in a clear, commanding tone what to do. 'Alright, everybody, inside now! If Riddle is bringing the Dracul Order along, then I am shutting this mountain down. Go!'

Nicolai and Mika immediately turned around and ran to the doorway. It took some doing, but they finally got the jammed door open and moved indoors. However, Hermione remained where she was, standing right next to Vishna.

'I meant you, too, Hermione.'

'I know, but I am not leaving you standing here on your own.'

'Hermione, you are the one person who needs to be inside the most. Now, go!'

'This really is a pointless debate, Vishna, because I won't be going until you are done. If they are to arrive, then you need someone to cover your back while you shut down this mountain.'

'There is a little girl inside who needs you.'

'And as long as I stand outside, Riddle won't Apparate directly inside the mountain. So unless you stop chatting and make it impossible for anyone to enter, I am afraid I will remain standing right here beside you. It's the best way I can protect Rose.'

Vishna growled, but he turned away from Hermione and drew his knife. He slashed himself in his hand and covered his wand in his own blood before whipping it through the air. A red lightning bolt flew through the sky around the mountain as he cast the chant.

'By the blood of our ancestors, by the fiery strength of Vasuki, darkness be cast and daylight be hindered, for Isis protects us all. Incite the Knot!'

A strong, fierce rumbling from deep within the belly of the mountain started to rise. The volcano started stirring and growling like a monster was awoken somewhere below. The ground shook and cracked as a fissure slowly expanded around the Vasuki home base. When the deep cleft had circled the mountain completely, a wall of lava flew into the air, forming a circular dome over the volcano and turning the entire environment into an eerily reddish, almost Martian colour.

'I'd like to see them get through that intact,' Vishna said, satisfied. 'Now, will you go inside?'

Hermione turned around, but the wooden door had vanished, and there wasn't a single opening visible anywhere in the volcano.

'Uh, Vishna?' she started, trying to get his attention to the little problem at hand.

Two arms flung around her, and the vampire prince pulled her close. 'Don't move. You need to be with me; otherwise, the Knot won't let you in.'

He spun them on the spot, and with a distinct crack, they Apparated inside the Central Hall of Mount Krakatau. It was a large, luxuriously-decorated space. A bit too pompous and kitsch for Hermione's taste, but overdoing things was usually the vampire way. Tapestries with ancient vampire images could be seen on the walls, while glittering chandeliers lit the area. All along the walls, ceiling and floor of the circular room was a stream of a red, blood-like fluid that flowed through a transparent pipe system. Beside the stream, the ceiling had been painted with the history of the Vasukis, and it must have taken someone ages to complete the colourful and eye-blinding visual. Stone benches with red velvet cushions were placed in a semi-circle across from the elevation on which a golden throne with red rubies was stationed. Several paths were visible between the benches in a straight line to the flight of steps that led to the throne, but Hermione and Vishna currently stood in the central, most widened pathway that was commonly used as entrance and exit in ceremonial matters.

Behind the throne, two large doors were sealed shut. Hagrid's little brother Grawp would be able to pass those doors without having to worry about hitting his head in the slightest. The stone doors were as high as the ceiling and had the vampire lineage of the Vasuki Empire carved down in a mixture of blood and silver on them. Only the Vasuki Prince could open the lock of the doors to the Vault of Isis that contained the protective Knot of the base: It required his blood donation to open.

The Central Hall was commonly used during ceremonies and when a decision was to be made by the entire vampire body of the Vasuki Empire. When there was no event, the Hall was open to everyone, and Kolya and Mika had led the children down here, knowing it was the safest place in the mountain and that they would pop up sooner or later. The nine-year-old half-vampire Jürgen had joined them, and Hermione realised his presence was probably why the kids hadn't been standing in the doorway anymore. Rose must have seen her old friend and rushed off to greet him, dragging the others along.

The boy was still utterly pale, which was not common among half-vampires since they could stand the sun just as well as humans could. Besides his paleness that made him stand out among his peers, Jürgen's bright blond hair was an even more unusual sight in the rest of the vampire world. Those who were born blond gained a strange, straw-like, yellowish colour after a couple of centuries in the dark. His gangly body was not very impressive, and neither was his physical strength. Rose, who was human, one head shorter than him, and two years younger, easily tackled him during work-outs, while most half-vampires were significantly stronger than their human counterparts. All his abnormalities caused Jürgen to stick out more than he liked, and Hermione had reminded him more than once that being different didn't mean he was worth less – on the contrary, he was one of a kind, and uniqueness was priceless in the real world. She was very fond of the kind boy.

'Mummy! Look what I got!' Rose shouted while running towards her mother happily. 'Jürgen made it.'

She handed her mother a beautifully crafted knife. Hermione watched the handmade vampire knife in admiration. Its handle was handcrafted silver with a gold embossed rose on both sides. The tiniest emeralds she ever saw made up the leaves, and the petals of the rose were formed out of equally little rubies. It was a very delicate work of art, and she could tell that Jürgen had spent a lot of hours working on this. Over her shoulder, Vishna also watched the knife with great interest while Rose looked at her with flushed cheeks from excitement, and Jürgen shuffled on his feet nervously.

'Wow, Jürgen, you made this? It's very well done. Are you certain you want to part with it?' Hermione asked kindly.

'I made it for her,' Jürgen said shyly over all the attention. 'It was a class project, and we had to make an individual gift for a friend that would be appreciated.'

'I like it a lot,' Rose affirmed immediately, 'so they can't flunk you on this.'

The boy practically glowed in delight and beamed at Rose.

'If you liked it, Master Zhivoka said I would get an A plus.'

'I bet,' Vishna said, holding out his hand to Hermione questioningly.

She handed him the knife and he twirled it around in his hand.

'Mmm … good balance, nice and even,' he commented.

Jürgen shifted his weight nervously to his other leg when Prince Vishna examined the knife he'd made. He swooshed it around in the air a couple of times and threw it in one fast stroke to a nearby pillar. The knife's tip plunged in the wood and kept going until its blade was more than halfway embedded into the pillar. Vishna whistled, impressed, before summoning the knife back in his hand.

'Straight, sharp, steadfast and precise; no diversions in the air. Excellent battle knife, Jürgen. You have a gift, son. Not many adult knife-makers reach this level of skill.'

Jürgen turned completely pink in his face after being praised by the prince himself. Vishna was a well-known knife critic or "anal nitpicker" as some craftsmen called him behind his back. He hardly ever approved of a knife to go as far as calling it excellent. Hermione winked at Jürgen. She knew the boy had a hard time in class due to his dreadful combat routines, and it was nice to see him being proud of something he did for a change. So, when Vishna turned his attention to Rose, he made the half-vampire even more reddened in the face from pleasure at hearing his words.

'This is a very good knife, Rose. Treat it with care, and it will protect you well. Especially, once you've mastered knife combat,' said Vishna, and he handed it back to her carefully.

Rose placed it back into the matching belt and looked at Vishna pleadingly. Hermione had a distinct feeling she knew what was coming next and was promptly awarded with confirmation of her suspicions.

'Can you teach me, Uncle Vishna?'

Vishna glanced at Hermione questionably – obviously checking whether she was okay with this. When he was certain he had her approval, he replied affirmatively to Rose.

'We can all practise tomorrow, after you've settled in. Now, why don't you introduce me to your friends over there, Rosie?' and Vishna nodded towards the Potters who stood a bit behind her, watching everything with wide, curious eyes.

'This is Prince Vishna Vasuki; he is the leader of ALL vampires,' said Rose, beaming to the three of them.

Amused, Vishna glanced at Hermione, who raised her shoulders and one hand in the air at this gross overestimation of Vishna's leadership and world of influence.

'And this is James Potter, my best friend, and Albus Severus, his brother, and Lily, his sister,' Rose concluded.

Vishna held out his hand to James, who shook it boldly. Albus and Lily, however, had quickly moved behind Hermione for safety, finding the tall vampire rather impressive and intimidating. Hermione turned towards them.

'It's alright,' she said, patting through Lily's hair reassuringly. 'He is a friend.'

But that didn't make the two suddenly jump forward. Albus bit his lip, and Lily took a hold of her robe as if she planned to hide underneath it if necessary.

Vishna squatted down before addressing the duo.

'Welcome, Albus Severus and Lily Potter. I hope you two will enjoy your stay with us, and you both are welcome to join Rose in tomorrow's practise. As is your brother and the excellent knife-maker, too, naturally,' Vishna added quickly, upon seeing the other boys' hopeful faces.

He was considerate enough to leave it at that and not demand a handshake from two somewhat scared children.

'We need to talk once you've settled in,' he said to Hermione, rising back on his feet. 'Kolya! Could you show Hermione to her quarters in the mountain? I need to check the power of the Knot.'

A loud crash sounded outside the mountain, causing everyone in the hall to look up.

'That's soon,' Vishna said, uncaring. 'I suppose it would be too much to hope that it was Vlad who got fried there.'

Muttering some more suggestions about the "delightful" future he wished towards his Dracul counterpart, the prince strolled up the flight of steps to go into the Vault of Isis in order to check on the protective power of the Knot. Hermione took a hold of Lily's and Albus's hands and followed Kolya who was chatting amicably with Rose, James and Jürgen. She was grateful that, for the moment, James was thoroughly distracted by everything and everyone around him, because she really had no idea how to tell the Potter children their parents were dead.

xXxXx

And so time passed by, while Tom Marvolo Riddle made his goons reestablish his control over the United Kingdom. Many Muggles strolled down the street in London and passed the destroyed Wizarding Hospital without noticing it. A bright green skull with a snake slithering around kept lighting up the sky above the debris that remained visible to all those with magical genes. It was his manner of reminding everyone what happened to those who stood in his way. However, no witch or wizard was seen in the vicinity of it, too afraid to come near to a site that possibly was marked by the presence of the most feared wizard of all time. Not even those with family members in the hospital came to search for the bodies of their loved ones. Nobody dared anymore, not after Augusta Longbottom died horribly when she came by to look for her grandson and his wife.

It was rumoured that Lord Voldemort had cursed the place himself, but nobody knew for sure, since no one had actually seen him. Some didn't believe he was back. They were convinced that another equally dangerous, dark wizard was using You-Know-Who's sign to scare the masses. A few people claimed that Voldemort and this evasive Riddle fellow were one and the same, but most people considered that to be a shipload of bullocks. After all, there was no way that the charming, handsome, do-gooder Tom Riddle could be _him_. The thought was ridiculous.

But all the mystery, the unexplainable, the guessing, and the creepy rumours did spread a scent of fear through the air. Many gossipers were watching anxiously over their shoulders when they spoke of the events that had transpired, scared that by its mere mention, they would somehow, inadvertently, onset the arrival of the snakelike, marble-white face of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Crack.

Three people suddenly appeared in an unusual manner on top of the debris of St. Mungo's. A flash of grey light that was almost silvery surrounded them. If there had been anyone there to witness the Apparation, they would have been either utterly shocked or pleased by the appearance of the three, depending on whose side the viewer would have been on.

'Hold still. The nausea will disappear in about a second,' Ron said while he held on tight to Harry and Ginny.

'What?' asked Harry, moving his head around dumbfounded.

He turned to the right and started vomiting, but as quickly as his feelings of dizziness and sickness came on, they vanished without a trace.

'What happened?' Ginny asked, disoriented. 'Are you alright, Harry?'

'Yeah, I'm fine,' said Harry, getting upright again. 'Ron?'

The two Potters now looked at Ron questioningly. Ron's head swivelled left and right. His wand was drawn as he scouted the area quickly until he noticed Ginny and Harry staring at him. He merely pointed to the sky above them as a reply.

'We have to go before we are found here,' he added calmly.

Ginny gasped in shock, and Harry stared at the skull for a short while in solemn acquiescence before turning his attention to Ron.

'What happened?' he started off calm, but before Ron could respond, more questions flew from his lips rapidly. 'How did we get here? How did we escape that blast? You can't Apparate inside St. Mungo's. How did you …? There are people buried underneath this rubble!'

Harry drew his wand in order to start clearing the area to search for possible survivors.

'No, don't use magic here. It might draw unwanted attention,' said Ron, alarmed, and he grabbed Harry's hand before he could cast a spell. 'It's too late, Harry. Riddle killed them all. They are gone.'

'What do you mean?' asked Ginny, who had also drawn her wand and was about to cast a spell of her own. 'Surely, there could be survivors underneath.'

Harry nodded, agreeing firmly with his wife.

'Not anymore. It's been a week since this building blew,' Ron explained sorrowfully. 'If anyone survived that blast, they are dead now. He'd have seen to it. We have to go. If that skull is any indication, nobody has been able to stop Riddle, yet.'

'What do you mean a week? We were just here!' Harry contradicted his statement furiously.

Ron pulled up the sleeve of his expensive jacket and showed them the small device that was visibly tied around his upper arm.

'This is a Dimension-Turner. If you Apparate while wearing this, it transports you and everyone or everything you're holding to an alternate, preset dimension. So when the building blew, we were not really there.'

'So we are in an alternate dimension?' Harry asked, looking around puzzled and slightly relieved.

'No, due to the Anti-Apparation Wards around St. Mungo's, we couldn't truly Apparate to another dimension in the flesh. However, I had a feeling the Turner would pick up on my attempt and activate nevertheless. We have reappeared in our own dimension. We just stayed in some semi-form of Midapparation, which protected us from the blast, until the safety features of the Turner kicked in and transported us back.'

'The children!' Ginny exclaimed and spun around the spot, but Ron grabbed her arm and blocked her Apparation attempt before she had a chance to leave.

'They won't be in Hermione's house anymore, Ginny. It's been a week,' he said apologetically. 'And you have no idea what kind of mess you're going to Apparate into if you go in there blindly.'

Harry's eyes flashed in fury.

'You mean Riddle has got them. We are going to find him and get rid of him, _again_,' he spoke determinedly to Ginny, who firmly agreed with that assessment and nodded to her husband.

'No!' Ron snapped angrily. 'You two need to listen and come with me. You can't go hopping around on some wild goose chase. I've got a place where we can find out what happened, but you need to follow me.'

He might have well spoken to the rubble on the ground. That was how much his words had impressed the two people standing beside him.

'If Riddle has Lily, James and Albus, then he will most likely have taken them …' Ginny started to tell Harry, completely ignoring Ron.

'Can't you two have some faith in Hermione!' Ron shouted frustrated, interrupting his sister's and Harry's conversation. 'I understand that you are freaking out about your children. I am concerned about them, too, but they were in Hermione's house when this hospital blew. Riddle would have made sure she wouldn't die, so chances are she was able to save them. Now, I have a safe place where we can find out exactly what has happened since then. SO STOP THIS MUCKING ABOUT!'

Harry and Ginny stared at Ron, shocked at his fury and somewhat baffled by the way he dared to speak to them. Ron, who realised he finally had got their attention, took a hold of them both.

'We will find them, Gin. I promise,' he added softly. 'I'm certain Hermione would have protected them one way or the other, and your best chance to find them is by coming with me, right now.'

Harry and Ginny looked at each other. They had to agree with Ron that Hermione would not have just sat by and let Riddle take their children or Rose for that matter.

'Ron is right,' Harry finally affirmed. 'Hermione would have done everything in her power to keep them safe.'

Ginny nodded in concurrence. 'You can find out where they are?' she asked Ron, hopefully.

'Possibly,' Ron answered, hauling up his shoulders in slight doubt. 'Are you both coming with me?'

The Potters shared a glance of understanding before nodding in an affirmative manner to Ron.

'Good,' he said, smiling relieved, 'that means I won't have to Stun you.'

They looked at him, smirking.

'And who would you bring along to achieve that feat, brother?' Ginny said, slightly condescendingly, while twirling her wand around.

Ron grinned. 'Just Apparate with me, will you? I'll steer us to the safe house.'

Crack.

The three of them Apparated into a flat in London, but it was not empty as Harry and Ginny had expected.

'Ron!' Luna shouted, relieved.

She flew out of the chair she was sitting in, ran towards him and hugged him like crazy, bouncing them around on her feet. 'You made it! You made it!'

She pulled out of the hug and watched Harry and Ginny happily.

'And you two are here as well. Oh, everything is going to be alright now.'

She turned to the man on the couch and slapped the back of his head, ignoring the exaggerated outcry of pain.

'See, Seamus! I told you they would be alive. I knew Ron would get them out. He always saves the day. You used the Turner, didn't you?' Luna asked Ron.

Ron merely nodded. His ears had turned quite red from Luna's excited praises.

'Oh, I love you so much! You didn't leave me! You're still alive!' Luna said cheerfully and started kissing him vigorously.

Harry and Ginny looked quite confused. Ron and Luna? When did that happen? Why did they keep it a secret?

'Can anyone tell me where my children are?' Ginny asked, somewhat annoyed with the frivolous kissing, while the situation clearly asked for more immediate, serious action.

'Riddle hasn't got them. They are with Hermione,' the sudden voice of Parvati Patil answered reassuringly.

She stood in a doorway and had obviously just got out of bed, since she was wearing a pair of fluffy bunny slippers on top of a silk, pink pyjama. However, the cheerful colours could not hide the fact that she looked tired, and her face was tear-stained and pale.

'And we believe they are all safe at the moment,' she added, noticing the question etched on their faces.

Ginny and Harry let out a relieved sigh.

'Told you,' muttered Ron in between kisses.

'It's good to see you all in one piece,' Parvati said, smiling weakly. 'Luna, let the man breathe will you?'

'No, no,' said Ron, waving his hand through the air in a signal of disagreement, 'the man is quite fine at the moment.'

Parvati rolled her eyes at the ceiling and shook Harry and Ginny's hand.

'Welcome to the amazing world of the Unspeakables,' she said mockingly. 'You know Seamus and Luna, of course. And this is Sheila Holmes, better known as Sunny.'

She pointed to the red sofa on their left in which a tall, red-faced woman with long white hair sat. Sunny wore all black. A black tank top above black jeans was combined with several black leather belts that all had a gold dragon as a buckle. The belts were strapped around her legs, arms and waist, and were host to a large variety of weapons. Harry noticed the severe blisters on her reddened arms as she got up from the sofa to shake his hand. The blisters were an exact match to the huge one on her nose.

'Nice to meet you, Harry Potter,' said Sunny. 'Too bad it isn't under better circumstances.'

Harry nodded at that.

'What happened to your arms and face?' he asked, while Sunny and Ginny shook hands.

'Too much sunlight,' Sunny said, shrugging.

'Sunlight? Aren't you a vampire?' Ginny asked curiously.

'Yes, I am,' Sunny replied proudly.

'Sunny believes the sun needs to be concurred,' Seamus added, snorting.

'We, vampires, once roamed the surface of this planet, day and night,' Sunny said indignantly. 'But we allowed the sun to concur us, _us_! I say: no more! We will prevail!' And she walked into the kitchen, her fist raised in the air.

'She is a bit strange,' Parvati whispered as soft as she could.

'We, vampires, also have excellent hearing,' Sunny added warningly from the kitchen with her mouth full.

'And disgusting eating habits, Sunny,' added Parvati, and she pulled up her nose.

Sunny placed her head around the doorway and grinned at Parvati mischievously.

'If you're volunteering to donate your blood to me, I'll be more than willing to leave this burger sitting on its plate. If not, then please do not disturb a vampire having dinner. We get real cranky when our bloodsucker is too low.'

'Burgers? We still have burgers?' asked Seamus, his eyes widening in hope.

He raced into the kitchen as well when Sunny replied in an affirmative manner.

'They are unbelievable,' said Parvati, shaking her head.

'So you're all Unspeakables?' Ginny asked Ron disbelievingly.

'Always the tone of surprise,' he said somewhat grumpily while wrapping his arm around Luna.

'Ron is the best active Unspeakable according to Moran,' said Luna.

Ron shrugged humbly, but his ears turned red with pleasure at her praise.

'Active Unspeakable?' said Ginny, puzzled.

'We are the ones who do the field work,' explained Ron. 'We keep an eye on threats the Auror Office can't and deal with them.'

'You mean like some sort of James Bond?' Harry asked.

'Who?'

'Yes, that is a good description of what they do,' Sunny concurred, entering the living room while holding on to a large glass filled with some kind of red beverage. 'He is some kind of fictional spy in the Muggle world,' she added explanatory to the pure-bloods.

'Oh, okay,' said Ron, furrowing his brow briefly, but not enquiring further about the Bond issue, which he obviously didn't get fully. He shrugged. 'Well, Luna here is our best operative abroad with her famous photographer slash reporter cover. Everyone knows her, since she is the one who first photographed and wrote an in-depth article on the mating habits of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. So, it is very rare when someone questions her true motives for asking around a lot.'

'You'll be amazed how many people don't take you seriously if you ask them about their opinions on Nargles first,' Luna said level-headed. 'You can pretty much walk around undisturbed after that.'

However, she breached this newly-found, clear-minded impression by adding dreamily that she hoped to someday find a camera with the right capabilities to get an actual shot of the Nargles.

Ron smiled at her in a caring manner before continuing with his explanation, 'Parvati has her beauty parlour, where the rich and famous go.'

'And boy, do they talk a lot when they think you are just the shampoo girl,' Parvati said, smiling.

'I have the joke shop that allows me to travel around a lot, of course, and as for Seamus … well, nobody knows what Seamus does, besides eating.'

'Eh!' was the resentful, impressively eloquent response from the kitchen. 'Tell them about 12 Grimmauld Place.'

'Yes, Seamus, we all heard how you escaped from Riddle's clutches daringly there,' replied Parvati, tiredly.

'Thanks to Sunny,' whispered Luna.

Harry and Ginny both looked at Sunny, who downed the strange, red liquid in her glass at once.

'I'm no Unspeakable,' she said, upon seeing their questioning expression, 'I was merely at 12 Grimmauld Place because I had to give Hermione some information on a vampire situation that she asked me about. So, you could say that I was at the wrong place at the wrong time, and now, I am stuck here with these fine people because Riddle saw me.'

'So he really took over the country?' Ron asked.

Everyone nodded grimly in response.

'What happened?'

'Well …' Luna started hesitantly.

'We got our arses kicked,' said Seamus, peeking around the doorway with a burger in his mouth and a backing spatula in hand. The sounds of sizzling meat grilling on a stove entered the living room along with the mouth-watering smell.

'Seamus,' Parvati reprimanded.

But he merely shrugged, muttered something about that being the truth, and turned back to his pan.

'Yes, well, Seamus is right,' said Luna lightly. 'Riddle had us completely fooled. He had everything planned to the minute detail. Right after that explosion, his forces stormed Hogwarts, and he took over the Ministry with several of his associates in a heartbeat. He appointed Malfoy, of all people, as temporary Minister. Can you believe it?'

'How?' Ron said, frowning. 'That must have required loads and loads of planning, and we bugged his flat, his workplace, his house in Edinburgh … everything. How come we missed all this?'

The others became silent and glanced at each other uncomfortably.

'We,' Luna started while anxiously monitoring Parvati's reddened face. 'We got … He knew we were monitoring him.'

'What! How?' asked Ron furiously, and he glared around.

Obviously, no one felt like responding, until finally Parvati spoke up.

'My sister told him, alright,' she said, folding her arms over each other, while glaring at him in a manner that clearly meant Ron should not push her any further on this matter.

'Parvati and I almost didn't make it out of the Department of Mysteries in time,' Luna added quickly before a huge row would become eminent.

'We wouldn't have made it if Riddle hadn't left his Death Eaters to fend for themselves halfway through,' added Parvati softly.

'Hallelujah for Hermione!' shouted Seamus from the kitchen, and everyone in the room started chuckling.

'The look on his face,' roared Sunny.

'Pretty priceless,' admitted Parvati, and a ghost of a smile appeared on her face.

'I am getting a print of it for the Quibbler's next edition,' replied Luna, snorting.

Harry, Ron and Ginny were looking around, waiting for someone to explain the fun to them, when Seamus shouted from the kitchen again, 'Show them the tape!'

'Yeah, I wouldn't mind seeing that again,' said Sunny, agreeing with Seamus.

Luna looked at the trio.

'It would be quicker than explaining it,' she said and walked to the huge mirror above the dresser. 'It appeared,' she explained, while waving with her wand at the mirror, 'that while you lot were out dancing, Riddle sent a couple of his goons in advance to Hermione's house. We guess he was counting on abducting Rose in order to control Hermione. Fortunately, he wasn't aware we were monitoring Hermione's house, too. Otherwise, we probably would not have known what had transpired there. However, well … you better see this.'

The mirror slowly changed, and the reflection of the people in the room began to diminish. A strange mist became visible, clouding the view completely. Slowly, the clouds evaporated again, and Hermione's house came into view. A couple of men stood before the gates, whispering among one another. Harry felt it was almost like watching a movie on an extremely large television screen.

'Really, Ainsley. You are such a baby. I am certain we can take care of a bunch of children and their Bulgarian Nanny.'

'Just don't screw this up. I'm telling you: we will be in a lot of trouble if we don't get the girl. And remember he wants her alive, Rooks,' Ainsley responded.

'Yeah, yeah, just hand me the damn Wardbreaker.'

Ainsley handed a little sachet to Rooks, who held it upside down, and something round rolled onto his hand. Rooks looked at the gates and smirked.

'This will be a walk in the park,' he said smugly and tossed the ball to the wards.

A dash of silver flew around the sky, attaching itself to the wards. Then, to Harry, Ron and Ginny's horror, all the wards surrounding Hermione's house dropped down like flies without setting off any kind of alarm. Concerned, Ron glanced sideways to Luna.

'Just keep looking. We had the same response when we first saw it,' she said, smiling. 'The field operative who was watching it when it happened almost blew his cover and intervened.'

'Easy does it,' said Rooks triumphantly, and he snatched the ball out of the air while he and his thugs ran up the garden path.

All of the sudden, a dash of gold surrounded them. Ainsley halted in shock. 'What for Slytherin's sake?'

A loud crash was heard when the gold light threw the men through the air into the wards that had miraculously risen behind them. With a thud, they landed on the ground, completely surrounded by wards on all sides.

'Rooks, the device quickly,' Ainsley said nervously.

Rooks pulled the ball out of his pocket and threw it at the wards again. But as the ball emitted its silvery-coloured Temporal Wardbreaking Charm, a dash of gold struck it dead on, and it exploded into a million pieces.

'We are doomed,' whispered Ainsley, and he sank to the ground, dejectedly. 'He is going to kill us all.'

Rooks and the other men, however, had not given up. They started casting curse after curse at Hermione's wards. Ainsley, who had laid himself down on the ground, was muttering that he had a beautiful life and that he didn't want to die just yet, much to the annoyance of the other men.

'Get off your lazy arse and do something,' a tiny fellow sneered.

After a long, _long_ time, they started to realise their spells did not damage Hermione's wards in the slightest. One by one, they all sat down on the ground, defeated. However, it was not a quiet, little group, and soon, they started arguing about whose fault it was because naturally, someone had to be blamed for this disaster. It went from bad to worse, and finally, wands were drawn and curses were cast. It was such a ruckus that none of them heard the familiar crack of someone Apparating to the scene. Tom Riddle had arrived, and he didn't appear to be particularly happy. He folded his arms over each other and glared at the chaos inside the confinement of the wards. For some time, he stared in utter disbelief at the ridiculous fighting before shaking his head and sighing.

'Idiots,' Tom muttered. He picked up some of the remains of the silvery ball and tapped on it with his wand. 'Mmm … interesting choice of defence charm.'

Tom strolled to the wards and waved his wand above his head. A violent, crackling noise was heard through the air as Tom's spell impacted on the wards. Sparks flew all around him as the wards started to react with the force of his spell, and it took all his concentration to not break the contact. Ainsley and the Three Stooges (as Hermione had christened them previously) halted their fight, in shock upon realising their master had arrived and was currently in the process of tearing down the wards himself. Tom waved his wand above his head for a second time. Holding contact with the wards magically, he cast the curse to shred them. A lightning bolt flew from his wand, and with a blinding flash and a crack, the wards fell.

'Thank you, my Lord,' muttered Ainsley, keeping his head low.

'Shut up. I did not come here to bust your sorry arse out of confinement and listen to your snivelling apologies about getting caught into it in the first place,' Tom snarled before he spun on the spot and Apparated into the house.

**BANG!**

The Granger residence exploded with all the force it could muster.

'Whoa!' shouted Ron, and he jumped backwards when the fire almost seemed to enter the living room.

Harry and Ginny watched equally shocked as the house their children were supposed to be in turned into burning debris that scattered all around the sky. It was when they saw a dark figure surrounded by a silvery shield crash into an apple tree and plummet to the ground. It was also when they realised the dark figure was Tom Riddle, and he appeared to be, shall we keep it decent by saying, somewhat cross. Everyone who had already seen it started snickering.

'Master!' shouted Ainsley, worried, and he ran towards the coughing figure on the ground to lend him a hand.

'Get your filthy paws off me,' hissed Tom.

It was a statement that made Sunny guffawing beyond her control, and they could barely hear the next sentence Riddle spoke to Ainsley, 'I can get up myself.'

As Tom scrambled back onto his feet, the murderous expression on his face was the cause for even more hilarity inside the Unspeakables' living room. Only Ginny wasn't laughing. Her face pale, she stared at the now burning rubble that was once Hermione's house.

'Hermione, the children,' she whispered. 'I saw them through the window. They were still in there.'

'They Apparated out on time,' said Luna, reassuringly. 'Sunny has contacts in Java that informed her Hermione arrived there with all the children safely. Come on, Ginny. You can't possibly think we would be laughing if Hermione and four children died in there.'

But Ginny still looked at Sunny for confirmation and quickly received it.

'Hermione is very close with Prince Vishna,' Sunny explained. 'My contacts say he crashed the mountain after Hermione and four children entered. Nobody can get in or out of there at the moment, and not even the old Lord Voldemort succeeded to break Vishna's security measures in the past. So I am guessing they are safe as long as they stay inside, since Riddle placed his own wards around the mountain as well in order to prevent them from leaving.'

'Crash what mountain?' asked Harry. 'You don't mean Krakatau, do you?'

'Well, that is the home base to the Vasuki Empire, so yeah,' Sunny replied casually.

'My children are inside a vampire stronghold,' Harry said, shocked, while he looked at the calendar on the wall.

Sunny raised her eyebrows and sent him a not-so-kind, condescending look.

'The Vasuki Clan is well known for his peaceful attitude towards humans. But besides Elisabeth, not even a hardcore Dracul would attack children if that's what you are afraid of.'

'I know the Vasukis are known for their peaceful nature, but it's almost Bonfire Night,' Harry said furiously. How dare that vampire think he was a bigot towards them? Racism was not why he had issues with his children being there. 'Don't all vampires lose control on that night?'

Sunny fell silent. She knew Harry was right. Ron slammed Harry on his shoulders.

'Hermione is there, Harry.'

'I know, but tell me: how she is going to hold off a herd of blood-craving vampires for an entire night? Because she can't get out if Voldemort locked them in.'

'Then, we just have to make certain that Riddle's wards are going down, so Hermione and the others can leave,' decided Luna, like it was a piece of cake.

Upon those words, they all sat down on the couches and started to plot a few plans of their own to counter Riddle's.

xXxXx

Meanwhile, Hermione watched how the children listened to Kolya with sheer intensity. After James had spread a few wizard commonalities about vampires, Kolya had felt it was his duty to set the record straight. Since he was an animated storyteller, he captured their attention easily. Hermione felt it was quite a remarkable feat that he was able to do so because she still had to sleep with Albus and Lily, who had rather nasty nightmares. James and Rose, on the other hand, were in complete denial.

After James heard who was supposed to be responsible for his parents' death, he refused to believe they were gone, said his father would finish off Voldemort once and for all, if he really was back. Rose firmly agreed with him, and they wouldn't hear anything else. Hermione had to admit there was always a slight chance. Harry had slipped through the cracks more often than deemed viable, but she couldn't think of a manner in which to escape the blast at St. Mungo's. So, she kept a close eye on Rose and James's state of mind, knowing that once the truth would sink in, the blow would be even harder.

'But you become a vampire when he sucks all your blood out of you and forces you to drink his,' James said in protest, upon hearing Kolya tell them how he became a vampire.

'No, no, no,' Kolya called out, appalled. 'That is a disgusting, ancient method, highly forbidden by the Honour Code nowadays. It's not allowed to force someone to become a vampire. A person has to be willing.'

'So if you're willing, then you get all your blood sucked and you drink his,' James concluded rather morbidly.

'How do you wizards come up with these silly bloodthirsty notions?' asked Kolya, rubbing his long, red beard shocked. 'You don't need to donate all your blood to the vampire. All it takes is a little ceremonial bite, and you drink a bit of his blood.'

'But then you won't die?' James countered, puzzled. 'Don't you become a half-vampire this way?'

'Die? Why would you need to die to become a vampire?'

'Because you need to be undead to be a vampire,' replied Albus.

James nodded certain.

'Undead? What on earth is undead?' asked Kolya, confused.

Albus shrugged, but James answered that easy question.

'Undead is someone who died and was brought back to life as a vampire to live in the dark.'

'No, undead are like Inferi, dead bodies that can't think for themselves,' Rose replied, certain. 'Vampires are alive, right, Kolya?'

'Very right, indeed,' Kolya said promptly.

'But how do you become a half-vampire like Jürgen then?' James asked, still confused.

'Half-vampires are created when a human woman mates with a vampire man. The child that comes from that union will be part vampire and part human,' he explained. 'And of course, there are other methods to ensure when someone drinks vampire blood that he or she won't become a full vampire.'

'If a vampire man meets a vampire woman, do they then get a vampire baby?' Rose asked, interested.

'No, all vampires are born as humans and created as adults. We do not reproduce among ourselves. It is prohibited.'

'So, there are only half-vampire children, no real ones?' asked Lily.

'Indeed,' Kolya agreed gravely. 'It is punishable by death to create a vampire child by any means. If, for instance, Rose here wanted to become a vampire, then we would have to wait until she has completely grown.'

'Why?' asked Rose, somewhat disgruntled.

'Because a child who is turned into a vampire will age as a vampire. Your body would stay little for centuries, while your mind would mature at normal speed. There are a few examples of children who turned vampire due to rogue attacks from dark vampires, and those children were very unhappy, because they could not fend for themselves. It's really dreadful to look like you're six years old, when you are, in fact, three-hundred-eighty-two.'

'How old do vampires get?' asked Albus.

James was about to open his mouth but halted halfway through the motion and closed it again when it occurred to him how many times he had been corrected already.

'Well, the oldest vampire who has ever lived has been Sir Richard Woolsbury of Kent. He became one thousand three hundred and forty-five years of age.'

'Wow, that's like forever,' said Rose, admiring.

'It's a very long time,' shivered Kolya. 'Fortunately, most vampires die sooner.'

'How old are you, Kolya?' asked Lily.

'Counting my human years, I am two hundred and one.'

'That is really old,' Albus concluded. 'I never want to be that old. You can't play anymore if you're two hun … if you're old.'

'If you're a vampire, you can still play,' argued Rose, 'no matter how old you are. I want to be a vampire when I grow up, so I can live real long and won't die.'

Hermione practically choked on her beverage.

'You will still die as a vampire. Didn't you hear what he said?' replied James, pleased he was finally right about something.

'Well, I won't,' said Rose, placing her hands in her sides certainly. 'I will use magic not to. Dying sucks.'

Hermione gave Rose a concerned glance and was about to interrupt this line of thinking, when James did.

'But you can't use magic as a vampire,' James called out triumphantly.

The vampire grumbled at hearing that.

'Who told you that nonsense?' he repudiated. 'If you were a wizard or witch before turning into a vampire, you will keep your magical abilities as a vampire.'

'But … but …' stuttered James, and he was clearly suffering from a loss of words.

So, Hermione decided to help him out. 'You've been talking with Great Auntie Muriel about vampires, haven't you, James?'

'Yes, she said vampires are not magical, do not eat normal foods, and were dangerous,' James said quickly.

'There is an old Ministerial Guideline about the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans,' explained Hermione to the vamp. 'I am sorry to say it lists vampires underneath that group. It's why most witches and wizards are unaware that vampires can be magical. Also, your Code that states magic is not … ermmm … _"cool"_ doesn't help to enlighten people to the reality of magical vampires. Muriel would be biased enough to put strange ideas into the minds of young people. I doubt Harry and Ginny would have been this silly.'

Kolya snorted.

'You, wizards and witches, have no true concepts of anything vampire-related. Just because most vampires were Muggles before they were turned doesn't mean every single one of us can't perform magic.'

'I know, I know. Don't bite my head off,' Hermione replied hastily.

'Why aren't there more girls vampires?' asked Lily. 'I only saw Mika.'

He shrugged.

'Not many women are interested in becoming a vampire, and those who are often fail the physical test prior to their turning or have an overly romantic notion of what life as a vampire is like. Once they learn the reality of it, they run screaming, and like I said, you have to be willing. It's not allowed to make someone a vampire against their will.'

A large boom was heard in the distance, and suddenly, the walls vibrated all around them. Hermione looked up, alarmed, while Albus and Lily quickly grabbed a hold of her robes. She shared a concerned glance with Kolya.

'Could you?' Hermione asked, and she nodded towards the children questioningly.

He gave her a short, affirmative nod.

'Lily, Albus, I need to take a look to see what has happened. Why don't you two go sit next to Kolya?'

'No, don't go, Auntie Hermione!' squeaked Lily, and she wrapped her arms tightly around Hermione's leg.

Hermione stroked the little girl over her red, Weasley-like hair. 'I'll be right back, dear. It's alright. Rose, listen to Kolya.'

'Yes, Mummy.'

'Nobody has entered the mountain, so everyone is going to be alright,' Kolya explained jovially, and he picked Lily up from the ground and placed her in his lap. 'Wanna learn how I know that for certain?'

Albus and Lily nodded silently.

'Well, do you see those big red bulbs right there?' he asked rhetorically. 'If someone comes in when the mountain has been shut down, they are going to flash red and a siren will go off, alerting every vampire present that we have uninvited guests. That's how I know we are quite safe: because nobody has come in yet, okay? And even if they do come in, there are like a zillion vampires between us and the mountain's entrance, so you must be a complete fool to …'

Hermione didn't hear the rest of his explanation to the children as she swirled out the door to see what that blast was about. Normally, the mountain would not shake and stir upon any attack. The wards around the place were quite capable of abating any shockwave, so things weren't as safe as she was certain Kolya perfectly well knew. She ran down various corridors and passed several cheerful vampires en route to the security-chamber that lay adjacent to the Central Hall. Nobody seemed that concerned about what had just sounded through the walls, until she reached the security-chamber. Several elder vampires were muttering amongst each other, and Prince Vishna was already ordering people around to various key locations inside the volcano.

'What's going on?' she asked immediately.

Vishna beckoned her inside. 'I'll fill you in, Hermione, in a minute. You got that, Orkyle?'

'Consider it done,' responded Orkyle business-like, and he, along with the rest of his group, left the chamber.

Hermione watched them walk out and looked back at Vishna, worried. 'What did that blast do, Vishna?'

'What you heard was a direct assault on the Knot.'

She gasped. 'I thought that was supposed to be impossible.'

'Yeah, so did I,' he grumbled. 'Fortunately, it did no damage because the wards held and channelled the energy away from the Knot.'

'So that's why the walls shook: a dispersal of power.'

'Indeed. I am dispatching several security teams to key locations in case this happens again and we sustain a breach.'

'Can you show me what happened exactly in that attack?'

'Certainly. I was hoping you would be willing to give your opinion on this. Our knowledge on magic is verily limited. Just activate the enchanted window. It's set to go.'

Hermione walked over to a large window that had a stationary view on the Isis Knot and its hideout. She pressed the button on the rim of the window and watched how events unfolded. When she was done, she turned around and gave Vishna a grim glance.

'That bad?' he asked, worried.

'That was a trial run. It wasn't the real deal,' Hermione said, shaking her head. 'I'm guessing Tom just wanted to know whether he could break through your wards and reach the Knot itself.'

'But he hasn't reached the Knot.'

'No, but he managed to disturb the internal wards around it, and that really is enough. If he can isolate the Knot from the rest of the mountain, every outside ward it powers will fall.'

'And if he can disrupt the internal wards …,' added Vishna, getting an idea to where this was heading.

'… then he can also shift those wards to block the Knot's full output, isolating its power, which basically renders it useless,' concluded Hermione, grim. 'It's rather clever, actually, using the protection of the Knot to separate it from the protection of the mountain.'

'So, what is the bastard waiting for?' yelled Vishna furiously.

'Bonfire Night,' Hermione answered simply. She was absolutely certain it was why Tom had held back now.

Vishna growled.

'That is tomorrow. Surely, he won't be interested in attacking a mountain when he can't kill a single vampire? You know that on Bonfire Night, killing a vampire will only result in a temporary deathlike state that will be reversed when dawn breaks. Besides, we are at the height of our physical powers due to all the excess adrenalin at that night. It makes no sense to attack then.'

'I believe he will disagree with you on that,' said Hermione calmly. 'Your Bonfire Night is traditionally the moment when princes get overthrown in duels, when your governments fall, and as you said, none of the fighting parties can die permanently. So the Draculs are safe from harm, too. And to add on that, your instincts completely take over, which means your rational mind will be blocked. I think he would consider that a great advantage. None of the guards you just dispatched will remain at their posts. Every single one of you will follow the call of the blood.'

'So will the Draculs. He can't order them to do diddlysquat on Bonfire Night.'

'He won't have to. All he needs to provide them with is a means to enter this mountain. Or do you state that on Bonfire Night your two clans suddenly become the best of buddies?' she asked ironically.

Vishna grunted on that notion.

'Like I said,' added Hermione, 'he can use your hostile, non-rational state to his advantage all the way. Your two clans will be involved in an all out battle immediately without any consideration as to why.'

'Sure, we will become a bit animalistic, but …'

'A bit?' interrupted Hermione, snorting loudly in amusement. 'I was here last time, remember?'

'And you live to tell about it because you were inside the Vault of Isis, which we use as a safe haven for all who are not full vampires. Now, I was trying to say that Riddle is human,' repudiated Vishna. 'He won't be safe from us, and he can be killed, unlike the vampires. It would be highly irrational for him to try to enter on that night. He is bound to buy the farm if he does.'

Vishna was not through lecturing Hermione as to why it would be impossible for Tom Riddle to attack on Bonfire Night, not by a long shot. Only Vishna got interrupted by the source himself. Riddle's voice echoed through the volcano as it once had echoed through Hogwarts, and Hermione's eardrums whistled once more when he was finally done speaking. She turned to walk to the exit, when Vishna grabbed her by the arm and stopped her.

'Over my dead body,' he said wrathfully.


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine, and … *checks wallet and internet bank account* yep, still no additional euros from posting this fic, too. *sighs*

**A/N: **I want to thank everyone who read, faved, alerted, and reviewed: IceAgeSurvivor123, liv, SpeedDemon315, Rosiline, WeBuildThenWeBreak, Lilipop10122, Merih, ArtemisMoon87, Hatsumomo Smile, vampirelover2009, FA-AL, medusaasaphoenix, patie, ilovesiriusorionblack, pamelawright, GoldenTresses91, Summer Leah, shinobinaraku, tanzainy, RedPhoenix23, Rena Katsueki, ilovenat1995, POM-frenchreader, blindfaithoperadiva, acceptedmisconceptions, BlueSkyHeaven, siddyi,

Liv: well, how about now? *winks* Thanks for liking the story.

Acceptedmisconceptions: I hope you haven't wept two weeks long? *winks* Thank you for the compliments.

* * *

**Masters of Manipulation: Part Two**

**Chapter ****8 **

'Vishna?'

'Yes, Mum.' Distracted, the teenage boy looked up from crushing Glumbumbles in his mortar.

'You've made quite a lot of juice already,' his mother said, patting his head approvingly.

He nodded. 'Last year we didn't have enough to protect everyone in the village from the hysteria caused by the Alihotsy leaves. I made extra.' He pointed to the shelf on the wall where an already filled to the rim stone jar stood.

'Good thinking. But can you clear the table and get your brother and his friend now? Dinner is almost ready.'

'Sure.'

He hopped of his stool and carefully lifted the jar he was in the process of filling to the shelf. Next, he waved his wand, securing the remaining Glumbumbles back in their magically sealed bottle. The little furry insects buzzed loudly in protest as their bottle hovered through the air to the cabinet along with his mortar and pestle. Silence ensued when the wood door to the cabinet flew shut upon his casting and Vishna ran outside to get his little brother and friend. He walked around the farm's sheds twice, unable to locate them.

'Sal!' he yelled. 'Mum's got dinner ready! Salazar! Godric!'

Vishna sighed when it remained silent. He scratched his head. Where could they be?

'Pssttt … Vishna,' Sal's voice whispered from an undetermined location.

'Sal?' Vishna asked, looking around confused.

'Are you alone?'

'Yes, where are you?'

'Nobody can see you?' Sal enquired in that same soft conspirator's tone of voice.

'Nobody else is here.'

'I am down here. Beneath the shed. You've got to see this … Merlin, why isn't this working?' Sal mumbled to himself. 'Godric! I can't get your stupid portal to open. I want to show Vishna what we did.'

'Show me what?' Vishna looked down at the ground around the shed's wooden walls but saw no opening or any portals.

'Just flick your wand sideways,' Godric said from afar.

'I am flicking it sideways,' Sal said, annoyed.

'Not to the left, _dumbarse_.'

'Oh.'

A flash occurred and a dark hole with a spiral stone staircase became visible. Every few steps a candle hung on the wall dimly lighting the path down. Before Vishna had the time to examine it closely, Salazar ran out, grabbed his arm, and dragged him inside fast.

'Quick, before anyone sees,' Salazar said, flashing his wand to the right again.

Nothing happened. Salazar wrinkled his nose and rubbed through his black hair, frustrated before flicking his wand a bit more exaggerated to the right. Still nothing. He growled.

'To the left to close!' Godric shouted in the distance before laughing loudly.

Salazar turned red and flicked his wand to the left, closing the passageway's portal.

'Hurry, it's happening!' Godric added, excited. 'You're going to miss it.'

'What's happening?' Vishna asked.

'Come on, you'll see,' Salazar said enthusiastically, racing down the stone steps in a hurry, not wanting to miss a single moment of it.

Vishna shrugged and followed his little brother curiously. When he reached the end of the stone staircase, there was a dark tunnel he quickly paced through to reach the brightly lit, round, cave-like chamber. Two boys were huddled excitedly around something in the centre.

'Quonk,' it echoed, after which a crack sounded.

_Oh no, not again__, _Vishna thought upon seeing a toad walk away_. _Quickly, he moved to them and looked over Godric's curly, red hair at the contents of the broken chicken egg.

'Ooooh, look how cute he is,' Salazar said endearingly.

He lifted the four-inch-long Basilisk into the air and hissed against it. The tiny creature curled around his fingers and hissed something back.

'What's it saying?' Godric asked, leaning forward curiously and stroking the little scales softly with his finger.

'It's hungry,' Vishna replied offhandedly. 'Mum is going to kill you for creating another one, Sal. She strictly forbade you to breed any more Basilisks. They stand out too much.'

'But he's so adorable. Look at his little green scales and … he's already got tiny fangs!' Salazar stated, exhilarated.

Godric withdrew his finger immediately.

'It's not poisonous to us yet, _stupid_.' Salazar giggled, while the Basilisk bit in his finger. 'It's just a baby. It will take weeks before his venom is strong enough to kill humans.'

'And mere weeks before it's so long everyone will spot it a mile away,' Vishna commented, shaking his head.

'I am going to keep it hidden,' Salazar said seriously. 'Oye! Oww! Sharp fangs.' Quickly, he placed the tiny thing in his other hand and shook his bleeding finger.

'Sal, it's really hungry, that's why it's constantly biting you. Didn't you bring food for it?' Vishna asked disapprovingly.

'We have,' Godric answered, because Salazar was sucking on his finger instead. The redhead pointed to a sachet nearby.

Vishna summoned the sachet and ruffled through it.

'When are his eyes going to open?'

'In two weeks,' Salazar replied, stroking the tiny creature's head affectionately again. 'Look it's got the beginning of a plume here.'

'Really?' Godric said, leaning in again. 'Oh, I see it. But it's orange. I thought their plumes were scarlet?'

'It turns scarlet when he becomes an adult,' Vishna explained, pulling out a spider by its leg and holding it toward the Basilisk, explaining in Parseltongue that dinner was here. The creature uncoiled, raised its head, and struck in a flash.

'Whoa!' Godric exclaimed. 'He's fast.'

'Of course, he is. He's such a good Basilisk,' Salazar said proudly, patting its head.

'Now we need to go and have dinner. Mum's waiting for us, if we don't show soon …' Vishna trailed off warningly.

Salazar carefully wrapped the Basilisk in his handkerchief and placed it in his breast pocket. 'There, he'll be warm, comfortable, and out of sight.'

Vishna nodded and moved ahead of them.

'What are you going to name him?' Godric whispered.

'Beedle.'

'Hello Beedle,' Godric said to the little creature in Salazar's pocket, as they moved down the tunnel. 'Welcome to Scotland.'

xXxXx

As Tom Riddle's magnified voice echoed deep into the bowels of the volcano, a humongous body uncoiled and raised its scarlet-plumed head slowly at the disturbance. Blinking his yellow eyes drowsy, Beedle woke from his little nap. Hungry, he smacked his lips together a couple of times before slithering away to find some dinner.

xXxXx

Meanwhile, at another location in Mount Krakatau, Hermione raised an eyebrow at the vampire prince who had a tight hold of her upper arm.

'You are not sacrificing yourself. I won't allow it,' Vishna hissed angrily, tightening his grip.

'What?' Hermione said, puzzled. A mystified frown appeared on her face. 'I have no intention to sacrifice myself, but I think we might want to hear what he has to say.'

'Pffttt,' Vishna sneered, making a dismissive gesture with his free hand. 'Nothing good will come out of his mouth. I say we stay nicely indoors where all the decent folks are.'

A snort escaped her lips when Vishna referred to himself as decent. She glanced at his hand again, warningly this time, causing him to let go.

'As much as I would prefer to stay indoors with the … _decent_ _folks_,' she said mockingly, folding her arms over each other, 'he might start yelling at the mountain again and I'd rather not torture my eardrums any further. Besides, if I go down there and listen to what he has to say, he might let a few things slip that we can use to our advantage.'

'Well, I don't think it's a good idea to go along with his suggestion to "_talk_",' Vishna said, taking expert note into speaking the last word rather sarcastically, like he didn't believe Riddle had talking in mind. 'I don't like the fact that this … _talking_ will take place under his terms and in their encampment, especially with the ridiculous demands he thinks he can make under which the meeting is to take place. Such as the oh so convenient whereabouts of this meeting, the you coming alone and unarmed part … HA! If he thinks I am allowing that to happen, he has got another one coming up his ar–'

'Vishna,' Hermione interrupted the prince before he could get any more graphic on the issue. 'I have no intention to go anywhere without my wand, and Tom did give us his word that I could leave afterwards.'

Vishna snorted disparagingly. 'His word, pfffttt … I wouldn't trust a single syllable of his words.'

'I do,' Hermione responded, certain. 'True, he might have a rather unhinged kind of honour about him, but when he is this explicit in stating the terms … Well, he seems to think he has us cornered, doesn't he? It might be prudent to find out how right he is in his assessment. Tom has a tendency to only take into account those aspects of a situation he deems valuable. It's his constant blind spot. Besides, I doubt he will be foolish enough to break his word in front of the Dracul Order. I don't think his alliance with Prince Vlad will hold if he does.'

Vishna grumbled at hearing the mere mention of his archenemy. Still, he grudgingly agreed with Hermione that maybe, just maybe, Vlad had a teensy-weensy, itsy-bitsy, tiny fragment of vampire honour in him that would not take kindly to Riddle acting dishonourable toward her. Hermione smiled at the muttering vampire, who was now pacing toward the wall where the weapons hang. She knew Vishna would never freely admit that there was one thing he admired in Vlad: his straightforwardness. With Vlad there never was an angle. He either respected you or he didn't. If he didn't, he would bite your head off; clear and simple.

'Fine, go and listen. But I am coming with you,' Vishna decided in a voice that clearly wasn't taking any objections to the contrary under consideration. 'Might I also suggest that you take a few of our blades with you as well? In case you feel like knocking Riddle's head off in a proper vampire manner.'

'Tempting as that may be, I believe my motives would be rather conspicuous if I carry one of those oversized blades along with me, wouldn't you agree?'

'So what,' Vishna shrugged, 'let him notice. Maybe then he'll get the message.'

Hermione frowned when Vishna strapped two of the largest blades on his back, muttering something about getting it greased today. No doubt he had Vlad's head in mind. Only, he wasn't finished there. He picked up several of the smaller daggers and tossed them through the air, measuring their worth, before finally deciding on pocketing four of them.

'You better watch out or the weight is going to pull you down,' Hermione said dryly when Vishna began scouting the staffs.

'One can never be prepared enough,' he replied, holding out one of the toss-and-turn knives with the smaller grip to Hermione, while swooping a red staff through the air and deciding it wasn't adequately balanced.

'I'm good, thank you.' She showed him the one hidden underneath her shirt, tucked into her trousers' waistband.

'Sneaky, Granger,' Vishna said approvingly, deciding the yellow staff was just perfect. 'But you can always use seconds.'

Shaking her head, Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust. She wasn't particularly fond of the toss-and-turn knives. You simply throw them at your target and if you hit them, they automatically turn ninety degrees, making quite a mess of your enemy. What was even worse was that the only way to remove them from someone beheld completing the turn to a full circle, ensuring the thorough and utter incapacitation of your attacker and most likely their death. Hermione felt the knives were vile pieces of weaponry. She had used them in defence once before, but only as a last resort.

'There are vampires out there,' Vishna responded to her no-shaking head.

'You don't say,' she said ironically.

'What I mean is: There is going to be more than one target where we are heading. Once you throw that knife it's gone.'

Hermione swiftly pulled the knife and tossed it into the wooden pillar. It cracked the wood on impact and made its designed turn of ninety degrees. To Vishna's surprise, it didn't stop there. It kept on going until it made the full three-hundred-sixty degrees turn, after which it flew back into her waiting hand.

'It's charmed to return to me,' she replied matter-of-factly.

'Neat.'

'I could easily charm yours,' she offered.

Vishna seemed utterly tempted, but eventually decided against it. 'No, it's not done to use magic in vampire combat.'

'Leaving your wand at home, then?' Hermione countered mockingly.

'Of course not, Riddle is also there.' He demonstratively patted on his left pocket, which contained his wand, before choosing another staff on his left and stalking to the door.

Hermione looked with some concern at his back. She had made the comment in jest, because she knew Vlad was a magical vampire, too. The thought of Vishna taking on Riddle, however, did not strike her as a sound idea. Even though Vishna was an exceptional warrior when it came down to hand-to-hand combat, and he could surely best any other magical vampire with his wand, she would never recommend him fighting with magic against any wizard: least of all one with the skill of Tom Riddle. She had warned Vishna over and over again that he needed to practise magic as he did his other routines, but he'd always shrugged and stated that he was fine. Hermione disagreed firmly with him on this. She felt his magical skills were relatively mediocre, to put it mildly, and that was mainly due to centuries of underusing them.

'Vishna,' she said, running after him. 'We are going there to talk, remember? Not to start a fight.'

'I have no problem with talking or listening, but if they so much as move …' he threatened, making a slashing motion with one of the knives that he retrieved from his pocket at lightning speed.

'No,' Hermione decided, putting her hands in her side stubbornly. 'No, we are absolutely not going to draw our weapons at the first measly hint of trouble. We,' –she bossily held up her hand when Vishna was about to interrupt– 'we are going to go there, keep our wands and whatever else you've got stuffed in your pockets out of sight, and take a good look around. I want to know what and whom Tom brought along with him. If we're lucky, he is in one of his chatty moods, which considering the circumstances wouldn't surprise me one bit.'

'I wouldn't consider having to listen to one of Riddle's rants lucky,' Vishna said, pulling a disgusted face.

Hermione snickered. 'It is when he is spilling the beans on his plans.'

'He is not that stupid.'

'Yes, he is.'

'No way,' Vishna countered disbelievingly. 'Besides, even if he is, it is not like his reasons for being here are a mystery. He's after you.'

'Hmmm…'

'You disagree with me on that?' Vishna asked, laughing. 'Come on, Hermione, trust an old man to be able to tell. This is one of those for certain things. Hell, I'll bet my throne on it.'

He pointed to the golden chair on the elevation as they entered the Central Hall. Two guards were now stationed next to the doors that led to the vault. Hermione recognised Mika, but she had never seen the other one before. Another new face. She frowned briefly. In the past she'd only seen one addition to the Vasuki security ranks. Vishna was pretty picky about who he allowed in. It unsettled her to see an eleventh vampire she didn't know taking up such a key position. Were these new vampires or immigrants from other clans? Why was Vishna suddenly expending his forces – planning some kind of warfare?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the prince's casually put remark to Mika, and she filed her questions away for later, focusing on the issue at hand. Really, Tom Riddle was enough of a problem, she didn't need any more.

'We're going off to that meeting you no doubt heard about.'

'It was hard to miss,' Mika replied, grinning. 'Any special security measures you want to set in place?'

'No, just the usual. I sent Fylandro to Isle Four, so if push comes to shove you know where to find him.'

Mika nodded seriously.

'Fylandro?' Hermione asked, concerned. 'There is no need to bring out your second-in-command for a "talk".' Narrowing her eyes at him, she made little quotation marks in the air with her fingers.

'Just making certain everything is taken care of,' Vishna responded lightly, flinging his arms around Hermione. His overly casual tone made her extremely suspicious of his motives for wanting to go with her. 'Ready or not, here we come.'

Crack.

They Apparated outside the dome of lava into an encampment that was obviously Dracul related. Tepee type tents in all sorts of bright colours were stationed in a disorderly fashion. The flags of the Dracul Order waved on top of all of them much to Vishna's chagrin. However, before he could relay his annoyance to Hermione about this, an extremely beautiful woman with long, wavy, dark-brown hair approached them. She had the standard pale vampire skin; only hers was flawless, and it made her ebony eyes stand out even more. A dark-red, velvet dress that seemed to belong in another century was flowing ever so elegantly around her, as she strode with the confidence of nobility. Without ever having seen the woman before, Hermione knew this must be the Blood Countess, Elizabeth Bárthory. The vampire every Ministry of Magic in Eastern Europe was trying to kill. She could see it in her eyes. They showed a kind of ruthlessness you don't see often in anyone.

'Elizabeth, how nice to see you again,' Vishna said jovially _and_ rather loudly.

'Vishna,' she responded offhandedly, before addressing Hermione in a much politer manner. 'Mrs. Granger, it's a pleasure to meet you.'

Hermione gave her a courteous nod. 'Miss Bárthory, I presume.'

A delightful smile was extended in her direction. A smile that never reached the woman's eyes, Hermione noted. But the expression on the Countess's face turned an awful lot harsher when she addressed Vishna. 'I don't recall you being invited over, your Highness,' she said, the latter words coming out in a sneer.

'No need for formalities, Betty.'

The eyes of Bárthory darkened considerably at the condescendingly manner in which he talked to her.

Vishna pretended not to notice and continued falsely amicable, 'I believe you of all vampires will understand that this is my home, my territory, and therefore, I have every right to be here. I've got to say I'm surprised you and Prince Vlad failed to follow the proper channels. Usually, you two are the ones insisting on executing the right protocol and keeping up vampire decorum at any cost.'

The insults beneath Vishna's words were obvious to everyone. However, to Hermione's surprise, the Countess didn't start an all out war with Vishna. In itself this was a solid indication that the Countess had not been in agreement with how things were handled.

'This is not a vampire matter,' she stated, shrugging.

Vishna raised his eyebrows and turned a full circle to look at all the Dracul tents demonstratively.

'I can see that,' he said ironically. 'So where is Riddle?'

'You need to leave those here,' replied Bárthory, ignoring his question, while pointing at Vishna's armament.

'Elizabeth, darling,' he smoothly spoke, 'surely you won't be so dishonourable to request another vampire to relinquish his weapons?'

'It is not my request.'

'But you're the one asking it. Besides, we have come here in peace with no intention to use them unless so provoked. Certainly that should be good enough for you.'

Hermione took the liberty to look around the compound while Vishna argued with Bárthory. She had already noticed that he purposely drew Bárthory's attention to himself over and over again to give Hermione the time to observe the vicinity undisturbed. She quickly counted a dozen Tepees. There was one in particular that caught her attention, because at least four vampires were seen walking around it in a would-be casual manner. She made a mental note to remember the location of the weapons tent, before glancing around further and spotting a very familiar vampire: Gerard Capet, the one who came to her house not so long ago. He was talking to a short fellow who wore the ugliest purple hat Hermione had ever seen.

When their eyes met, she gave him a small, courteous nod that wouldn't alert Bárthory. To her surprise, he furrowed his brow in confusion and made a comment to vampire next to him. The purple hat bloke stared at her and shrugged. Stunned, Hermione watched how Capet sent her a polite nod back, one you give to a stranger. He didn't even try to disguise it to her present company. It was as if he couldn't recall meeting her and asking for her help. But he had met her. She remembered it clearly. Still trying to figure out why Capet would pretend otherwise, she noticed the discussion between Vishna and Bárthory had come to an end.

'Very well,' Bárthory said with a deep sigh. 'Keep your bloody blades. It's not like they will do you any good. I've seen your aim.' She snorted. 'It's positively appalling.' Abruptly, she turned around. 'Follow me.'

'I'll show her appalling,' Vishna muttered underneath his breath, while Bárthory paced away.

'Don't be such a baby; she's baiting you on purpose, as you were baiting her.'

Vishna smirked and his expression turned rather smug and triumphant as he patted on his still armed pockets.

'Can you try not to start World War Three while you're at it?' Hermione hissed softly.

'Did you spot anything of interest, yet?' Vishna whispered back incredibly cheerful.

Too cheerful to her liking.

'Weapons tent,' she whispered, motioning unobserved in its direction.

Vishna's smirk grew. 'I daresay that's handy intel. At least if the shit hits the fan we know where we can go to restock our supplies.'

She shook her head in surrender. Why did she even bother? She sincerely hoped Vlad wasn't such a hothead, too, because then this meeting was bound to end explosive.

'You're unbelievable. Why can't you just behave for once?' she whispered, sighing.

Vishna shrugged. 'Now, where is the fun in that, Hermione?' he asked joyously.

The vampire prince hooked his arm in hers and strolled in the direction of Bárthory, who had noticed they hadn't been following and was standing still with her arms crossed in front of her chest, demandingly.

'I hear the Dracul Order is doing Voldemort's bidding again,' Vishna said tauntingly to Elizabeth when they'd caught up with her. 'I had no idea you lot enjoyed obeying a human so much to go for it a third time. I guess I was mistaken. Servants to a human: tsk, tsk, tsk.'

'We were not his servants nor will we ever be,' Bárthory replied resentfully. 'We are merely extending a courtesy.'

'Some courtesy,' Vishna mumbled, nudging Hermione in the side.

But she had already seen the fence and what was behind it. It was not as if the four Norwegian Ridgebacks were small and quiet creatures. They were breathing fire all around in an attempt to destroy the magical fencing that kept them isolated from the rest of the encampment. She exchanged a look with Vishna, a look that conveyed how much their thoughts were alike. He grinned and she couldn't help but smirk back.

'Wait here,' said Bárthory in front of the highest Tepee.

They stood there alone, watching the dragons roar and bellow.

'It would be interesting to see what would happen to this encampment if those wards were to break,' Vishna hinted.

'Nothing to it.' She had already identified the type of wards that had been cast and knew it wouldn't be too difficult for her to release the dragons. It was definitely not Tom's handiwork.

'Really?' Vishna said positively elated, eyeing her in utmost adoration. 'Care to show me?' he added mischievously.

Hermione chuckled. 'Peaceful meeting; learn of plans, remember?'

'Solution there,' Vishna replied, pointing repeatedly behind his cloak into the direction of the four gigantic and extremely aggressive monsters. 'Big dragons. Fry everyone. We cheer. YAY!' he added a la Rose, making a short victorious raise in the air with his fists.

Hermione lowered her head in clear resignation and shook it, groaning tiresomely and slapping her hand before her eyes. 'Why, why do I always feel like I am the only adult around you lot?'

Bárthory stepped back outside and held the canvas doorway open for them. 'Mrs. Granger? After you,' she said with a slight bow of her head, gesturing her inside with her free hand.

Hermione immediately walked past her. _Time to get this show on the road._

'No, no, no, ladies first,' Vishna objected to Bárthory behind her.

However, Hermione didn't have time to stand still on the contents of Vishna's and Bárthory's arguments anymore, because the source of all evil came into view, instantaneously drawing all of her attention. Tom Riddle sat rather outstretched and lazily in the corner of a hideous but comfortable looking, red-velvet couch. His left ankle was resting on his right knee and his arms lay outstretched on the armrest and the back of the couch. He displayed the summit of relaxation, not to mention self-assurance, which annoyed the crap out of Hermione.

Amusement flickered through his dark eyes, before he gave her the utmost charming smile to welcome her. 'Nice to see you again, Hermione. I don't believe you've met Prince Vlad of the Dracul Order, yet,' Tom said, introducing her to the vampire on her right.

'A pleasure,' Vlad said smoothly, and he glided towards her to kiss her hand.

_Great, just great, __more good-looking evil menaces_, Hermione thought, disgruntled.

There simply was no other way to describe Prince Vlad. The vampire was absolutely drop dead gorgeous. He reminded her an awful lot of this picture she had once seen in Harry's house of Sirius Black before Azkaban and all the misery: _yummy._ Shoulder-length, curly dark-brown hair accentuated his light complexion, bringing attention to his light-blue eyes and strong jaw line. A small, brown moustache perfected the balance of his face, while his obviously very expensive clothes flattered his already nicely muscular body even further.

Hermione had often wondered why the authorities had such a problem in apprehending Vlad and Bárthory. Both vampires weren't exactly secretive concerning their whereabouts after all. Now, she was beginning to understand the problem. The two of them definitely lifted the phrase "looks can be deceiving" to a whole new level. There was no doubt in her mind they could charm themselves out of most precarious situations.

His lips brushed the back of her hand.

_Correction:__ all precarious situations._

In order to stop drooling all over the fine vampire before her, Hermione decided to focus on the interior of the tent, since that was like the equivalent of taking an ice-cold shower. The inside could supply someone with a pounding headache due to all the glitter and glamour everywhere. She had to blink several times before her eyes even mildly adjusted to it.

Unsurprisingly, the Tepee was magically enlarged on the inside. It bore a strong resemblance to the Central Hall in Mount Krakatau with all the vampire scenes that were painted on the large canvas cloth that made up the exterior walls – though, the Dracul scenes were far more bloodthirsty and violent than the ones in the Vasuki home base. Still, the glittering chandeliers hovering in midair were practically similar to the ones Vishna had hanging, and they'd both obviously raided every drapery store in the world to obtain all that red velvet.

However, the ugly gold and silver statues standing centre stage in the room were definitely Dracul decoration alone. Every decorative item was shining, sparkling, glimmering and glistening in there. A magpie could fly in and deduce it entered heaven. Hermione felt she would go stark raving mad if she had to stay in this preposterous place for longer than a few minutes. She was duly thankful Vishna didn't have the need to surround himself with all these "sparkles". The thought had not entered her mind or Tom stared at her rather amused.

_Surely, he couldn't have found a method of using Leg__ilimency on me again, could he? _

His face brightened further, and in response, she narrowed her eyes at him, causing him to avert his gaze and snicker soundlessly to some untold joke. Irritated about the way he seemed to be making fun of her, her mind began to run over all the possible retaliations she could hurtle his way – some were very satisfying to envision, very satisfying indeed.

However, Vlad interrupted her glaring to Riddle by talking over her shoulder to the couple still standing in the doorway. 'In or out, Vishna? Because I got to say, you're creating a very unwelcome draught in here.'

'Here I thought a draft would make you feel right at home, considering all the gaps and chinks in the walls of your castle in Transylvania,' Vishna responded.

He stalked into the room and wandered around it appraisingly, until his eyes fell on one of the statues that resembled Vlad and a smirk became visible on his features as he clapped his hands in mock excitement.

'Oh goody, a new statue of yourself. Didn't have enough of those, yet? Perhaps, you should try using a mirror?'

Vishna laughed exuberantly at his own pun; not noticing that after he'd entered, Bárthory had conveniently taken position in front of the only exit to the place. Hermione did notice, and her eyes flickered around the cloth walls, trying to get a feel of the power of the wards around this chamber in case they needed to make an emergency exit.

'Always the funny one, aren't you, Vishna?'

'Well, some of us bring fun, while others bring …' Vishna halted his speech briefly there, glaring demonstratively into the direction of Tom Riddle, 'unwelcome individuals along with them.'

Nobody responded to his provocative statement. The Vasuki Prince made eye-contact with every single one of them, before shrugging in Hermione's direction at the lack of response and strolling all the way to the other side of the room. He picked up a crystal sculpture of a fairy and pretended to be interested in the design before putting it down and turning around to face Vlad again.

'Turning into an overgrown house-elf again?'

Hermione closed her eyes. So much for peace and quietness.

And indeed, _that_ provocation was met with a response.

'What are you calling me?' Vlad hissed, his hand lingering above his dagger.

'An overgrown house-elf, a measly servant of humans, a stupid, mindless individual who couldn't think straight if the truth was to hit him in the head. No,' –he shook his head– 'that's actually quite crude towards house-elves since they can think straight, but are not allowed to. You and your moronic mind, on the other hand, are the epiphany of idiocy,' Vishna stated.

He was definitely on a roll as he slowly approached Vlad.

'Coming from you _that_ is saying something,' Vlad sneered back. 'Do you even score in the three digits on an IQ test? Because in case you haven't noticed, you are completely surrounded, Vasuki. It would be wise to show some respect to your conquerors.'

Vishna snorted. 'Conquerors? Why don't you try to come in and we'll see who conquers who.'

'Oh, I intend to – _personally_. It will be my pleasure to dispose of all those worthless half-breeds you keep allowing to breathe valuable air.'

'The only air that's wasted is what's going into your lungs.'

'Then, why don't you try and rescue all that air from me?' Vlad mocked, yanking his shirt open and supplying Vishna with the target of his smooth, muscular, naked chest, daring him to draw his knife.

'And, up comes my dinner,' Vishna commented dryly. Off-handed, he gestured in Tom's direction. 'Why on earth are you allowing _that_ _man_ to call the shots in your Order again? Did you forget how it ended the previous two times around or are you just hoping that the third time will be the proverbial charm?'

The heated exchange between the two princes was watched rather calmly by Tom Riddle. He hadn't moved an inch in his lazy posture and seemed to not care one bit about what was spoken. On the other hand, Bárthory did care. She'd drawn a vampire battle knife and held it ready behind her back, her eyes narrowing at Vishna in anger. But Vlad did not require any assistance from Elizabeth. He drew himself up to his full height and stepped right in front of his Vasuki counterpart.

'As you might recall I have a Vampire Debt that needs to be uphold. We are merely here to render assistance to an old friend; similar to you and that female human.' He gestured to where Hermione was standing.

'A Vampire Debt?' Vishna snorted in mock response. 'You mean the one that you conveniently forgot about for the past fifteen years, and now, I am supposed to buy that as an excuse for you and your entire clan to come rushing over here? Pfftt… don't make me laugh. I know what you and Bárthory are up to, Vlad, and I can tell you right now, the Council will not be amused when they hear about this.'

Vlad's hand rested on the heft of his dagger. 'I think it would be prudent for you, Vasuki, to keep your meddling nose out of Dracul business.'

Vishna took on his covert battle stand. It would only take him a fraction of a second to draw his weapons now. 'I would love to, Vladdy. Only your so called Dracul business will affect us all, and I will not sit by and watch you drag the reputation and standing of vampires even further down the drain.'

Hermione's eyes darted to Bárthory whose tense posture indicated she was ready to strike as well. She stepped towards the two princes and tried to intervene. 'Perhaps we ca–'

Not even noticing the witch's attempt, Vlad continued to speak to Vishna, his face red in anger. 'Maybe you should leave this earth then, since your presence and the company that you deem worthy to associate with are such a disgrace to vampirism, that it insures us to be of even lower standing than some of the vermin that walks on this planet.'

Hermione let out a discrete cough, but Vishna just had to respond. 'Still can't get over the fact that half vampires exist? Grow up.'

'They're an abomination to our race and they should be turned into full vampires the moment that option becomes available to them.'

The two now almost stood nose-to-noses in a match for the title of most threatening vampire alive, and they waited patiently for the other to back away or flinch first. Hermione sighed and scratched her head, considering the option of drawing her wand and blasting them both into unconsciousness. Vampires truly were impossible. She knew it would only be a matter of minutes now before this verbal sparring turned into something a bit more active and she couldn't help but wonder why Tom hadn't intervened yet.

Maybe he enjoyed the argument?

'Some people like being who they are, Vlad. They can't help it that you're an uncertain, self-absorbed prick who can't stand the fact that others can exist in the sun, while you're unable too.'

'That has nothing to do with it. They are weak and pathetic. I've yet to come across one who can actually put up a fight. They are going to lead every Auror and Muggle stake-throwing Buffy wannabe to us.'

Hermione rubbed her forehead. She felt a real headache coming up now and thought she was becoming a bit nauseated. This was not what they came here to do. She'd come here for … She'd come her to do … What did she come here for again? She racked her considerable brain but came up empty.

_A talk, something about a talk. But with whom?_

A hand suddenly fell upon her right wrist and unusually long fingers clenched around it, supplying her with the answer: Tom Riddle. A familiar sensation flew through her body upon their contact as the two vampires in front of her became blurry and a well-known scent of ambrosia entered her nostrils. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered how his arm sneaked around her waist and pulled her close. The bastard had hexed her in the back. She was certain that had to be the origin of the stupefying daze she was in at the moment. Vishna's furious scream echoed through her mind when Tom spun them on the spot and Disapparated.

Crack.

They Apparated into a barely lit living room area. Heavy curtains were drawn shut and only a few dimmed lamps supplied her with just enough light to make out the furniture. Despite that the world was swirling around her, she still registered she'd never been here before. Still, she was very thankful this place didn't have such bright shiny colours as the one she had just been in. A pounding, stabbing pain occupied her skull right behind her eyes. It was a truly all-consuming sensation. She had this urgent desire to close her eyes, hoping to relieve the pressure. As she followed that desire's lead, she leaned back against the only source of comfort – _him_. His hand caressed her forehead. It was a really nice feeling. It alleviated some of the pain. The rim of a cup got pressed against her lips.

'Drink,' he ordered in a cool and collected voice, tilting the cup immediately.

The liquid was poured down her throat just before her mind recalled that she really shouldn't be drinking anything he was giving to her. Too late. She'd swallowed it already. Still, she couldn't get herself to fret about it. Everything was off. She felt off. The only right thing about this situation was him.

'It will be over in a moment.'

Tom's voice had turned soft as he whispered the promise in her ear. His speech lingered around her tangibly, wrapping itself around her body comforting, as if his words were touchable, solid, corporeal items in the air.

_Good, my head is killing me._

Her legs became weak, muscles trembling like jelly. Tired, she was so tired. His grip tightened, keeping her upright. Gently, he guided her towards the couch and coaxed her carefully to lay down on it. Somewhere in the daze, she noticed how he sat down next to her, keeping her contained between his body and the couch, as his right arm rested lightly on her waist. Soothingly, his fingers stroked through her hair, and a pair of dark eyes was watching her expectantly as she closed hers again. The way he patted her hair was such a comfortable feeling. She really was drowsy and hadn't had much sleep of lately. Perhaps now would be a great opportunity to get some shuteye. She felt too tired.

Suddenly, a calm and thoroughly relaxed feeling washed over her. It replaced all the other sensations as the pain and tiredness evaporated. Invigorated, like she was reborn, Hermione opened her eyes again. She blinked several times in disorientation and tried to push herself up, but Tom's hand came to rest on her shoulder and he held her down firmly.

'Stay down,' he ordered evenly. 'You don't want that headache to return, now do you?'

Hermione looked into a face that was watching her calm and collected. 'What did you do to me?' she hissed, angry.

A small twitch in the corner of his mouth was briefly noticeable. 'Nothing too damaging, dear,' Tom responded smoothly. 'And the side-effects will subside with time.'

Hermione glared at him. 'That's not an answer.'

'Oh, you noticed that,' he said, shrugging amused. 'Well, I can't give away all my secrets, can I? It would take the fun out of the element of surprise. Besides, I love to see how long it will take Miss Know-It-All to figure it out.'

Her temper rose. She had a distinct urge to hex that blasted smirk of his face, but she could tell by the lack of pressure in her pocket that he nicked her wand again. Somehow, she had to find a method to prevent him from doing that in the future. Perhaps she could invent some kind of Tom Riddle Repellent Curse to place on it. Come to think of it, a curse like that would go a long way – just think of everything you could place it on, even yourself. A sigh left her lips when she realised everybody would come knocking on her door for it. She wouldn't get a day's worth of peace after word got around she created something so useful.

'I do have a substantial library at your disposal here in case you can't do it by heart and need to browse,' he added teasingly.

She scowled. 'No doubt filled with all kinds of disgusting Dark Arts Volumes.'

'They do supply a person with the best reading experience,' Tom replied cheerfully.

'If only the experience stuck to reading.'

He snickered. 'So some of those volumes can get a bit more entertaining…'

'A bit,' she muttered, interrupting him. 'Understatement of the year, Riddle.'

'Care to venture a wager as to whether or not you'll be able to manage …' he paused, flicking his wand and catching the book that flew straight in his waiting hand, '… _this_?'

'Thanks, but no, thank you,' she replied, crossing her arms without even looking at the book's title. She knew perfectly well the real threat that came with reading some of those volumes and she was in no mood to get into that old debate with him again. 'Not in a million years am I taking a bet against you again.'

'Yeah,' he said in mock thought, tossing the book on the table beside him, 'the past shows the odds are not stacked in your favour.'

Hermione ignored the way he smiled at the memory fondly and decided to get to the point.

'Where have you _taken_ me?' she asked, making certain to emphasise on the involuntary manner in which she was brought here.

'Oh … I am so sorry, where are my manners? I forgot you haven't seen my flat before,' he said with a wicked glint in his eyes, gesturing around with his hand as if to show off the place. 'You only broke into my house after all.'

'We're in London?' Hermione deduced questioningly, narrowing her eyes at him.

'Yes, I just figured it would be best if we didn't stick around for the brawl that was about to occur and go somewhere to talk in private. And since I don't entertain much,' Tom halted when Hermione snorted loudly in response to that. 'I was certain we wouldn't be disturbed.'

'I bet,' she said and pushed herself up to a seated position to take a better look around the living room.

This time Tom didn't stop her and his hand came to rest on her left leg when she sat up straight, leaning against the couch's armrest with her back. It somewhat disturbed her that even though they had not actually seen each other's houses, their styles were quite similar: practical, no-nonsense, unpretentious and naturally stuffed with bookcases. Fortunately, Tom had chosen an off-white colour on the wall, while she had a soft yellow paint on it. She discarded the little voice in her head that reminded her of the off-white walls she'd had in her flat in Tokyo. However, she still realised that Tom's living room looked a lot like her place. Well, that is to say, before she blew it up. Perhaps she should consider making a matching pair again? She somewhat snickered at the concept.

'Having fun? Let me guess … I forgot to add matching pillows to the curtains?' he mocked.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow, growing a devious smile on her face. 'Well, now that you mention it …' she giggled. 'But that's not a big oversight. What's worse is the missing throne in the middle of the room and all the other self-glorifying knickknacks. Besides, I am wondering how you can possibly manage without your personal dungeons and all the other necessary items to keep the masses in line,' she taunted.

Tom smirked. 'I got it all stuffed behind the other door.'

Hermione snorted, and their eyes met again. Her stomach made a little somersault and she shook her head to clear the feelings away. She wasn't very successful at it with him being this close and their bond back in full force.

'So …' –she took a deep breath– 'what did you want to discuss that was so important you felt the need to shout at some structure again?'

She was desperately trying to push that damn attraction back underneath the lit it was supposed to stay under. Focusing on his current despicable actions should do it. Right?

_Riiiiight._

'I think you already know what I want Hermione,' Tom said intensely, his index finger tracing the skin on her cheek all the way down to her neck before moving up again.

His motion triggered the bond's electrical sensations to dance over her nerves' endings, causing a titillating feeling to travel through her body pleasantly. Ignoring the way her body shuddered lightly and using up all her self-restraint to not lean into his touch, she spoke up quickly as a distraction.

'I doubt Vishna has been foolish enough to hide the bracelet inside Mount Krakatau. You're wasting your time surrounding and attacking that place.'

'Perhaps …' –Tom stared at her for a moment as if debating something with himself– 'however, as important as obtaining Wadjet's bracelet may be, it can wait. I didn't come to Mount Krakatau because of some silly piece of jewellery. I came because you were there and I think you very well realise that. You belong with me, Hermione. Don't think for one moment I'll give up on that.'

'You truly are just … just …'

'Determined?' Tom suggested.

'Not the word I was looking for,' Hermione said.

'Wonderful, cute, exceptionally dashing, smart, hot, just the right man for you,' he said, smirking.

'Nope, still not it; perhaps you should try the other side of the spectrum?' Hermione said teasingly.

Her eyes widened when Tom leaned forward and took a hold of the back of her head.

'How 'bout marvellous kisser,' he whispered softly against her lips.

Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust. Next, her eyes darted to the ceiling, and she tilted her head as if she really needed to think about this one. 'Ermmm, well, I don't …'

The rest of her reply got smothered. He had already captured her mouth in a passionate kiss. Her eyes fluttered shut as they opened their mouths to deepen the kiss and she felt his hand travel up her leg onto her waist, causing a rather delightful reaction to appear inside of her. Her hands were already in his hair, doing a good job at messing up his neat hairdo before she moved them down over his chest to caress his body. Their lips never parted as he pulled her back into a lying position and lowered himself on top of her, while Hermione pulled on his shirt, trying to yank it out of his pants as their kissing quickly turned into something a lot more ferocious and all consuming. His hand sneaked underneath her waistband inside her trousers and Hermione moaned in his mouth when he found that sensitive spot and struck it with his magic. Her mind went deliciously blank as she arched towards him. When Tom broke of the kiss, she opened her eyes again, meeting his. For what seemed like an eternity, they stared at each other heatedly in silence; the latter being rather unusual for the both of them. It was when he broke their eye contact to start trailing kisses down her neck that her mind kicked back into full gear. Coming to her senses, she froze up.

'What the devil …? Tom, stop,' Hermione commanded, grabbing a hold of his forearms.

'Ergmmh, what?' was the rather dumbfounded and distracted response against her neck.

She felt him starting to unbutton her blouse and realised her words were making very little impact on him. With the swiftness and flexibility that came from all those years of vampire combat training, she bent her leg. A precisely aimed kick next caused Tom Riddle to fly through his living room, landing butt first on the floor. Hermione flew of the couch into a standing position and redid her clothes back in order swiftly in order to be presentable again. It wasn't until she was done that she looked back at the person she'd basically launched across the room. Tom was still sitting on the floor. He appeared rather dishevelled and flustered _and_ was glaring at her pretty furiously.

'Couldn't you just say something instead of tossing me around?' he hissed. 'Or did the word no suddenly escape your vocabulary?'

'I did say something, but you seemed to not want to hear me,' Hermione replied equally pissed off.

Tom felt utterly confused. 'You did?' he muttered, racking his brain to remember when that undesired event occurred.

'Oh, sorry,' Hermione said, upon noticing he really had no idea what she was talking about.

He scowled in response to her measly apology.

But she wasn't through talking. 'Anyway, this…' –and she moved her index finger back and forth between the both of them, while Tom was scrambling back to his feet– '…this is never happening again.'

His eyes flashed red. Anxiety flushed her when she realised his wand had made it to his hand.

'You might want to reconsider that ridiculous statement,' Tom said quietly.

Hermione folded her arms over each other and stared back defiantly. 'Nope, don't think I will.'

It took him only a couple of steps to stop right in front of her and push the tip of his wand in her throat. 'I could make you.'

'If that's how you prefer it,' Hermione replied coldly.

'No, but if you keep on making the wrong decisions, I just might have no other alternative,' Tom said menacingly, before barking out the order, 'Marry me.'

Hermione's jaw dropped, and she stared at Riddle in astonishment. 'Wha-what?' she stuttered.

'You will marry me,' Tom ordered, certain.

Hermione blinked several times. A snort was followed by an oppressed chuckle that turned louder and louder, until she had to hold on to her belly from the muscle cramps that came from her outright roar of laughter. She was practically bathing in her own mirth as she staggered backwards into the support of the couch's armrest.

'Laugh all you want,' Tom said coolly, 'it's inevitable. You know I'm right about that.'

'You're delusional if you think I am walking down the aisle with you again _after_ you felt the need to kill all those people and turn into this … this …' –she searched for the right description and found it– '… Voldemort.'

'I had to do something to make certain you would be mine,' Tom replied. It was that plain and simple in his mind.

Hermione gasped. 'Don't you dare,' she hissed. 'Don't you dare pin that on me. You,' –she pricked him in his chest violently– 'had me already, but it's never good enough with you, is it Riddle? You never ever own up to any of your foul actions. It's always someone else's fault. Well, this entire thing was your despicable choice. The amount of planning that went into it …' Her hair flew in her face as she shook her head irritated, while clutching her fists when a much older memory resurfaced. 'Just how long have you been working behind everybody's back to re-obtain control over the UK, hmm? Because all that certainly did not just come about after I returned to live there,' she sneered.

'True, but I did change the schedule a bit,' Tom said casually, as if the witch standing before him didn't strongly resemble a lion about to pounce on its prey. 'Especially, after you started sending out private investigators like Sunny to snoop around my business. I have to admit I got a bit worried you might realise what I was planning, so I upped the timetable.'

'You killed Harry.'

'Funny how you're not mentioning your late husband.'

'Harry is the one who gave you a second chance, but you had to screw it up again, didn't you?'

'It was only a matter of time before Potter's luck was going to run out, Hermione. The odds were never in his favour. Besides, I can't help it if the old dodger rubbed off on him so much,' Tom snarled. 'Though I sincerely doubt Dumbledore would have been so foolish to lend me a hand if he had been there in person. Still, I should probably thank him for instilling his ridiculous morals into Potter, because I remember very clearly you and Weasley were firmly disagreeing with his decision to bring us into this era.'

'Because of this,' Hermione said, waving her arms around exasperated, 'because I had a feeling you would do this again. What's next Tom? Attempting to achieve your perfect magical society by torturing and killing Muggles? Re-establishing that foul Muggle-born Registration Office? Have toadfaces like Umbridge prosecute people like me? Tell me, how are your pure-blooded followers going to feel when you marry a Mudblood?'

'As I tell them to feel,' Tom hissed back.

'You're such a big hypocrite.'

'Am I now? We are bonded, Hermione. My blood and by default the blood of the great Salazar Slytherin runs through you …'

He never got to finish his sentence because Hermione's frustrated growl was a lot louder than his speech.

'It's just a bloody transportation system to deliver food and oxygen around! Argh! I cannot believe I'm even listening to this nonsense again. Just because your father was a prick, doesn't mean you have to go running around like some idiot killing everyone that remotely resembles him. So you had a lousy childhood. Boohoo … Get over it!'

Tom's eyes turned blood red. Furiously, he grabbed a hold of Hermione and shook her. 'You have no idea what you're talking about Granger,' he hissed, 'you and your perfect, little dentist parents in your upscale neighbourhood. Want to try living in an orphanage in the thirties? Especially when you're deviant, which was, I might add, the kindest expression that was used to describe me. Don't kid yourself in thinking it is just my father. Muggles have a tendency to be foul and aggressive to what they do not understand. Just because there are a few exceptions to the rule does not make the majority of them harmless.'

'You are right,' she acknowledged, though her tone of voice showed that her fury hadn't diminished and it hardly sounded like she really considered him right. 'I don't know what it was like for you. I have two loving parents who accept me for what I am. But I _had_ a friend who didn't grow up all that wonderful either. His Muggle guardians mentally and physically abused him. They locked him up in the cupboard underneath the staircase, and they hated everything magical to the core of their very being, while knowing perfectly well that my friend was a wizard. I had to send him food over the summer holidays so he wouldn't starve to death. But Harry didn't turn into this mumbling Muggle-bashing moron, because he …'

'Was an utter fool!' Tom finished, yelling. 'He should have shown those Dursleys who they'd been messing with the moment he was capable of taking them on. But _noooo_ … he had to _forgive_ them, because he _understood_ how hard it had been for her. Pffttt,' Tom spat, making a disparaging gesture with his hand. 'You have no idea how many times I had to listen to him finding excuses for their actions while I was living at Twelve Grimmauld Place.'

'Maybe if you really would have paid attention, you would have realised that those weren't mere excuses. People can do all sorts of …'

'NO!' Tom screamed beside himself. 'No, it is not excusable. No, it is not forgivable. And they are the perfect example as to why Muggles are dangerous to us when we keep allowing them to exert power over our kind. I will make certain that ends soon.'

Hermione threw her hands in the air. 'You're impossible. Nothing gets through to that thick skull of yours. Foul people exist everywhere, whether they are magical or non-magical. Your own wrongdoings are never going to make it right.'

'But it tastes deliciously sweet,' Tom replied vengefully.

'Until it blows up in your face, _again_,' Hermione responded tiresomely.

'There is no one left to stop me, darling. I got them all in a single blow.'

'I'll stop you.'

Tom looked at her intently, then, shook his head. 'No, you won't,' he replied, certain. 'You love me, just as much as I love you. You may be in denial about that right now, but I know it's true. I can feel it inside of me, due to our bond.'

'Love won't stop me, Tom,' Hermione replied quietly. 'It will enable me to do what needs to be done, because I will not have you ruin this world for my daughter.' The word slipped of her lips before she realised it probably wasn't a good idea to mention Rose around him.

'Speaking of which,' Tom said equally quiet. 'It would be in her best interest if you were to comply with my demands.'

A red gleam became visible in Hermione's eyes. 'I will warn you one last time to leave my daughter out of your despicable schemes,' she responded in an unmistakable threatening tone of voice.

Tom merely picked up a spherical glass paperweight from the table and started tossing it back and forth between his hands. The silence was tense and filled with the suppressed violence on both parties present.

'You'll have until sundown tomorrow evening to come to me freely,' Tom said quietly, looking at the paperweight as if he hadn't seen it before.

'What?' Hermione snapped, narrowing her now thoroughly red eyes at him.

'If you're not there by then, I will crack the security of the volcano myself to come get you. However, I will not be pleased if you waste my time, so I'd like to remind you that all those half vampires and humans inside of Mount Krakatau won't stand a single chance of survival on Bonfire Night. I'm positive that you've seen what I did to the internal wards of that place and you must realise that I'm not making empty threats here. Come to me before then and their lives will be spared,' Tom said matter-of-factly.

'So you are saying that you won't lower the security of Krakatau if I surrender myself to you?' Hermione said suspiciously.

'I'm saying those people you no doubt value will remain protected,' Tom corrected, placing the paperweight back on the table.

'I see,' Hermione said slowly. She had a pretty good idea to what he was really planning to do now.

'We better get going before Vlad throws one of his fits due to our undoubted mistakenly perceived dishonourable absence.'

'Not my problem,' Hermione replied offhandedly.

Tom smirked. 'I suppose not,' he said, holding out his hand.

Hermione did not take it. 'My wand?' she questioned.

'Your wand and any other weapons you've recently began to fancy will automatically be returned to you upon arriving back in Vlad's headquarters. I embedded a Disarmament Charm into the Apparition Protocols.'

'Really?' Hermione asked, eager to discuss that. 'How did you overcome the problems of separating …' she halted when she saw the smug expression on Riddle's face. 'Oh, get over yourself,' she grunted.

'Your hand, Granger,' Tom said, snickering.

Hermione grudgingly slammed her hand in his. He quickly stepped forward and pulled her close by snuggling his wandarm around her waist. She sent him a pitying glance and stated she was sorry to hear he lost his abilities to Apparate them without this proximity.

Tom merely grinned at her cheek. 'There are some ghastly wards set around my flat, Hermione. It would be a shame to lose you in one of those.'

Without waiting for a response, he spun them on the spot, Apparating them to the same place they'd left. Tom held on to Hermione's hand a little longer than necessary before letting her go, and she was very glad to feel her wand had really made it back in her pocket.

'There she is,' Vlad said somewhat relieved upon seeing Tom and Hermione back in his tent, nudging Vishna against the shoulder. 'See Vishna, I told you she would return unharmed.'

'That remains to be seen,' muttered Vishna.

Hermione sent him a reassuring smile, informing him that everything was alright. Apparently, he and Vlad had decided not to kill each other today. When she spotted the extra addition inside the tent, she froze and looked baffled. Sunny was the last one Hermione had expected to see. She glanced sideways to check on Tom's reaction to the white-haired vampire being here, and it was pretty obvious he wasn't at all pleased to see her.

Sunny winked to Hermione. 'Well, I think it is time for me to go. It is good to see you again, Hermione,' Sunny said smiling, pushing herself of the hideous couch. 'See you around, Vlad.'

'As always a pleasure, Sunny,' Vlad responded courteously. 'Don't forget I'll be wanting those back.'

'No problem,' Sunny said, waving a cheerful goodbye to the others. 'I'll take excellent care of them,' she added and patted on the bag she was carrying. A stiff nod was sent to Vishna and the sun-loving vampire was gone, taken it upon herself to use vampire speed in travelling.

'Why the disappearing act?' Vishna asked Tom.

Tom was still staring impassively to the canvas door Sunny had just left through before he turned his attention to the vampire prince.

'Wasn't that obvious?' he asked mockingly. 'It seemed to me you and Vlad wanted some personal time, and I really had matters to discuss with Hermione in private.'

'See,' Vlad pointed out, even more pleased with the situation now, 'that's what I said.'

'Hmmm … What matters would that be?' Vishna enquired.

'I'm certain Hermione can fill you in. We're done with this meeting,' Tom decided coolly.

'Now, wait a second. I'm in charge of the Vasuki Empire. If you have any relevant matters to discuss, you will do so with me or are you so dishonourable …'

Abruptly, Tom swirled around.

Automatically, Hermione's hand fell on her wand.

'What I had to discuss with Hermione is not vampire related, so there is no need for me to share it with you,' Tom stated menacingly. 'Nor do I find your obvious attempts to cause a rift between Prince Vlad and myself a very honourable action on your part. So I suggest you tone your responses down, Vasuki, or I will be more than willing to extend an invitation to a duel to you.'

Hermione jumped in between them in shock when she saw Vishna was about to take Riddle up on the offer.

'It was nice to meet you all,' she said as loud as she could, making certain to drown out anything that might leave Vishna's lips.

Vlad and Riddle shared an amused glance at her blatant prevention of the duel, while Vishna seemed slightly peeved.

'I sincerely hope to see you again, _Hermione_,' Vlad said, bowing his head slightly to her, while smirking condescendingly to Vishna at the same time.

'Yeah, me too,' Hermione said hurriedly, practically pushing the reluctant Vasuki Prince into the direction of the exit. 'Not now. I've got a better idea,' she hissed to Vishna underneath her breath.

That bit of news made him move. Bárthory held the canvas door open for them and followed them out. The moment they stood outside and the door closed, Hermione looked at Vishna.

'Can you Apparate us into the mountain from this location?' she asked, while showing Vishna that she drew her wand out of her pocket secretively.

'Sure, but …' he halted, frowning at Hermione's warningly expression.

'Perfect, that saves us the walk to the outskirts of this terrain,' Hermione said lightly, smiling at Bárthory who passed by without noticing the wand Hermione held hidden behind her arm.

'Good, that saves me the time to accompany you,' the Countess said simply.

Hermione's cheeks began to hurt from her fake smile and she nodded to the vampire. 'Yes, this way is much easier,' she replied innocently. 'Now!'

Throwing one arm around his neck, the other produced a jet of silver from the tip of her wand that charged into the direction of the warded fence keeping the dragons away from the people in the camp. Vishna grabbed a hold of her waist and spun them on the spot. The last thing Hermione heard from inside the compound was a huge blast that drowned out Bárthory's furious shrieking sounds. From the corner of her eye, she clearly saw the knife that hurtled towards her, illuminated by the fiery background where four angry, fire-blazing dragons stampeded towards the Tepee-like tents. A gasp left her lips as Hermione felt the large-bladed toss-and-turn knife enter her chest.

Crack.

And … they Disapparated away to the security of Mount Krakatau.


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer****:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's note: **I thank you all for reading and reviewing: patie, IceAgeSurvivor123, shinobinaraku, Summer Leah, ilovesiriusorionblack, Noon's Phoenix, Sailor2Moon, ilovenat1995, Lilipop10122.

I should probably read over the chapter again, but since I promised several of you an update today, here it is already. I will check for typos and so on tomorrow when my head is clearer. If you spot any, just let me know and I will correct it.

* * *

**Masters of Manipulation: Part Two**

**Chapter 9**

The familiar sensations of Apparation whirled through her body: everything turned black and she felt the pressure coming from every direction as if an unseen force was trying to crush her. Only it halted midway – they seemed to be stuck right in the most uncomfortable and indefinable moment of being and not being. A surge of panic rushed through Hermione as she considered the possibility that Vishna might not have been determined enough. It would result in the very nasty experience of getting Splinched. A light flashed in the darkness. Immediately, the squeezing sensation dropped. They smashed back into the area they'd left. The force behind their blocked Apparition was so tremendous it was impossible for them to stay together and they staggered apart.

'Look out!' Hermione screamed at Vishna, noticing the Countess attacking him with a bladed staff.

Hermione raised her wand to curse the female vampire into oblivion when the knife in her chest turned ninety degrees. For a second, nothing existed in the world but the overwhelming pain in her chest. Reaching for the knife and gasping for air, she stumbled backwards into a firm body behind her. Two hands grabbed her wrists and forced her hands down before she could yank the knife out and do more damage to herself. His arms held her tightly around her waist, securing her from tumbling to the ground. Tom carefully dropped to his knees and laid her down in his lap, eyeing the blade in Hermione's chest with a fury he only felt once before. And … his other self had held on to that fury for more than fifty years before finally eliminating Gellert Grindelwald: the man he'd deemed responsible for her death in 1945.

Meanwhile Bárthory swung her staff with the full force of her entire body behind it into the direction of the Vasuki Prince. With catlike reflexes, he blocked her swing with his blade and tossed the Countess through the air with a precisely aimed kick, using the force of her momentum against her. A shadow of darkness flew past Hermione. Vishna swirled around, holding up his blade horizontally to block Vlad's attack in midair. The clang of metal meeting metal vibrated through the air ominously. Then, both vampire princes were in full scale combat with each other, their movements so fast it was impossible to follow with the naked eye.

'Don't touch the knife.'

Tom's voice made Hermione look at his pale face. A faint, reassuring smile was all the response she felt capable of producing. Worried, he glanced down, letting go of her wrists slowly. Her arms dropped to the side and remained there motionless. Swiftly, he moved her blouse out of the way to investigate the damage.

'You're going to be fine,' Tom said, the twinge of fear sounding through his voice a clear indication he was trying to reassure himself, too.

'Dra..a..gon,' stuttered Hermione, having a hard enough time breathing let alone talking.

Tom's wandarm whooshed to his right. The Dragon Fire Extinguishing Charm left his wand at the same time the beast breathed out its fire towards them. The Norwegian Ridgeback stomped furiously with its feet and threw its head backward to take in another breather upon noticing its alleged targets remained unharmed. A complicated swirl of Tom's wand caused a golden light to speed around them. Hermione recognised Gryffindor's theory behind the ward as it rose to separate and protect them from their surroundings.

They were safe for now.

She felt strangely calm as she laid utterly still in Tom's lap. His wand whisked back and forth above her chest, a foreign language leaving his lips. All around them, dragons destroyed the encampment with the energy they'd been saving, being cooped up behind the fence for quite some time now. The purple hat fellow jumped on top of one of the dragon's backs, making Hermione wonder what on earth he was thinking. In the distance, a vampire got fried in the butt. He ran away screaming and patting with his hands on his behind in order to desperately extinguish the fire, before jumping butt first into a pool of water. She saw Capet raising shield after shield around his non-magical Dracul friends. It was such a chaos she was sure there wasn't a single tent that wasn't going up in flames. Despite the fact they hadn't made it back to safety, the destruction truly appeared to have been worth the effort. Though, she had a distinct feeling it helped that Tom was otherwise engaged at the moment.

Tom Riddle was still chanting in utmost concentration, his dark eyes narrowed at her chest wound and the knife that was still in it. Hermione felt a tranquil acquiescence wash over her as she studied his pale features that almost seemed to have a halo around them. Tom was frightened beyond his wit. She couldn't tell by looking at him, but she felt it inside of her. Her hand reached for his cheek. As she touched his face, their eyes met. She smiled at him reassuringly again.

'It's fine,' she breathed out with difficulty. 'Death is not something to fear.'

He placed his finger on her lips and shushed her. 'You're not going to die. I won't allow it.'

Quickly, he continued chanting in a sing-song voice. Silent, Hermione watched him ignore what she felt was inevitable. Despite his excellent skill in magic, she could feel her life slowly slipping away from her. She glanced sideways to where Vlad and Vishna were still fighting expertly. All she saw was a lot of greenish cloaks swirling and flying around, until a dark shadow fell over them and both princes froze up – their blades suspended above their heads in the middle of the motion. Vlad and Vishna turned their heads slowly towards the large dragon on their left. It took a breath.

'Bummer,' they muttered in unison.

The princes dashed away in opposite directions when the fire came roaring toward their previous position. Vlad flew straight into the direction of Riddle's golden ward followed by the fire, because the dragon had decided to chase his moving figure instead of Vishna's with its head. The intense light and noisy roar of it drew Tom's attention. With a flick of his wrist, an opening appeared in the ward. Vlad passed by it before Tom sealed the opening behind him with another flick. Just in a nick of time, because the fire hit the ward with a sheering muffled snarl. Hermione saw the blue light extent around the thundering fire with wonder. She'd never seen anything quite like it before. It was almost like all colours had fixated in the yellowish green spectrum of light.

_Thud_.

The body of his majesty crashed into the ward behind Hermione and Tom. With another thud, Prince Vlad plummeted to the ground.

'Blasted dragons,' Vlad grumbled, 'I'm never listening to Michael ever again. He can bloody well leave his pets at home next time.'

He brushed off his clothes and looked around Tom's safe haven in contentment, until his eyes fell on the kneeling and laying figures. Swiftly, Vlad moved over to them and glanced down with a frown at Hermione.

'That knife needs to be removed,' he said calmly and knelt down to take a hold of the heft.

Within a split-second, Tom's wand was in his throat. 'Touch her and you're a dead vampire,' he hissed. 'And don't think I'll stop until I've personally eliminated every single one of your vampires.'

Vlad moved his palms up in the air, but still looked back at Riddle determined. 'If you want her to live, you need to remove that knife. I recognise the heft. It's one of Bárthory's and Elizabeth dips all her blades in Digitalis Purpurea. The longer that blade is inside of her, the more of the poison gets absorbed into her system.'

'I will pull this knife once I've isolated the blade from her vital organs and have undone the damage it caused, otherwise she'll die from the residual turn,' Tom responded. 'I can deal with the Digitalis later.'

'No, you can't,' reputed Vlad. 'Not with the concentration Beth is always using and certainly not when the wound is so close to the heart. She is already having tremors.'

Hermione's eyes flickered between the two. Frankly, she agreed with both of them. They each had a valid point. At least knowing about the Digitalis explained the strange visual occurrences she was experiencing, the extreme calm state of being she was in, and the annoying tremors she felt in her hands. She really was in the final stage of the poisoning. Tom lowered his wand, and his eyes found hers. He seemed a bit lost as he stared down at her. But his eyes turned harsh when he looked back at Vlad.

'Turn her,' he ordered.

'I can't,' Vlad responded nervously. 'If I drink her blood in this stage, I will die from Digitalis poisoning before she even has a chance to drink mine.'

It was silent as Tom contemplated on that. Suddenly, he raised his arm.

'No, Tom! That won't work!' Hermione rasped, concerned.

Vlad's eyes widened at the wand pointed at his chest and the deadly cold glint in the eyes of the person aiming at him. Realising the death sentence he just issued upon himself with his previous statement, Vlad quickly added, 'Her blood first needs to mix with the blood of the vampire who turns her. Extracting my blood in advance won't help.'

'Tom, don't … please,' Hermione pleaded, attempting to raise her hand to touch him and failing, 'he is right.'

Taking her hand and wrapping his fingers around hers, Riddle gazed at Hermione intensely. In the end, he lowered his wand – though his knuckles were still white from clutching to it.

Vlad let out a breath of relief. He was extremely grateful towards the little witch on the ground for saving his skin, because he was certain if she hadn't said anything, Riddle would have tried out the option anyway, just to be on the safe side. He could see how the wizard continued to hold his wand in a vicelike grip and knew this was far from being over yet.

Still, Hermione Granger had saved his life, which meant he owed her a Vampire Debt. Vlad hated owing Vampire Debts to measly humans, especially to dying ones. It meant the debt would go to her next of kin and that always turned into chaos. Not that he would live long enough after she deceased for that to be an issue this time, he realised darkly.

All of a sudden, inspiration struck, and he leaned forward to Hermione. 'Have you ever been bitten by any of our kind prior to this?' Vlad asked hopefully.

But he didn't get an answer. Hermione stared into thin air in silence. The question did not seem to register. So many things whirled through her mind. Like the time when she was sitting in a cubicle at Hogwarts crying over Ron's remark that nobody wanted to be her friend because she was a nosy know-it-all and he and Harry had come to save her from the troll, making them friends for life. She considered the fun the three of them had during DA-meetings. How much she had enjoyed the twins' pranks on Umbridge. She realised she was going to see them all again: Harry, Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, Sirius, Dumbledore, Viktor and … Crookshanks.

Hermione had cried her eyes out when she found the furry part cat, part Kneazle dead in her hotel room in Argentina. He was old, had had a beautiful life and she knew his death was impending, but still, it had pained her severely. He'd been a part of her life for so long.

A cold hand was placed on her forehead. 'Hermione?' Tom asked, concerned.

'She is too far gone,' Vlad decided and stood up abruptly. 'Vishna!' he yelled at the top of his voice.

However, the dragons made far too much noise for him to overpower the sound and be heard by anyone but Tom.

'Lower the ward. I'll find him,' Vlad said to the back of Tom's head. 'If she got bitten by anyone in his pathetic, little clan, Vishna will know about it.'

Tom tore his gaze away from Hermione and nodded silently. A flick of his wand and the wards dropped. It happened almost simultaneously with the dark shadow that whisked away hurriedly. Tom resurrected the wards out of habit, but his mind wasn't on them. His dark eyes had already found Hermione's brown ones again. However, hers didn't seem to notice. This wasn't supposed to happen. Cold, unrelenting fury pulsed through his veins. Abruptly, he started swishing his wand and chanting in a sing-song voice once more. He couldn't give up now. That knife had to go. She wasn't supposed to die. Not when he was this close to actually obtaining her. He couldn't lose her. He just couldn't.

It took him quite some time until he was able to remove the blasted thing without doing any further damage. He sealed the wound with a couple of modern Healing Charms, summoned a flask of Digitalis antidote and magically forced it into her system. He added a Bezoar even though its effects on Digitalis were considered controversial at best. Then, all he could do was: wait. Wait, while the woman he loved gradually slipped out of reach, and there wasn't a single thing he could do about it. His fingers tightened around her flaccid ones, and he stared into thin air furiously. This was not right. He was Lord Voldemort. Lord Voldemort should know something, something nobody else ever considered, something brilliant. He racked his mind, but still remained empty-handed.

'Tom?'

Surprised, he looked back down at her face. Her eyes were open wide, but her pupils fixed on him. She smiled at him in a too serene expression to his liking.

'Don't give up,' he said, shocked, squeezing her hand softly. 'I need you to fight, Hermione.'

'Tom, promise me something.'

'Sure, later. Now you have to …'

'Rose,' she said, not letting him finish. 'I want her to be safe and loved. I know you can love, Tom. Promise me you will take care of her and love her.'

'Hermione, you can take care of her yourself. Vlad will find–'

'Tom,' Hermione interrupted him desperately. 'Promise me, please.'

He stared straight into her deer brown eyes and took a hold of her head with both hands. 'I promise,' he whispered softly.

'You'll do what is best for her and let my parents raise her?'

'Sure, I'll make certain Rose gets to Australia in one piece. Happy now?'

'And you'll promise me not to be your usual possessive, controlling self around her?'

'Hermione, you are _not_ going to die.'

'Tom, please.'

'Okay, okay,' he said, exasperated, 'I promise.'

Hermione gazed into his eyes, searching his feelings to weigh the truth of his words. Satisfied he'd meant what he'd said, she sighed in relief. 'Tom, Rose is …'

'Riddle!' Vishna yelled, overpowering Hermione's soft voice. 'Lower the damn ward! If I get there too late to do anything, I will kick your sorry arse!'

Tom's head swivelled up. Relieved, he disposed of the ward immediately. Vishna ran towards the couple and fell down on his knees beside them.

'Hermione?' Vishna asked, slashing his wrist open with his wand.

Hermione blinked.

'Are you alright with becoming a vampire?' Vishna asked, searching her face for some form of comprehension to his question.

'Are you kidding me?' Tom roared, his eyes flashing red. 'Pour your damn blood down her throat now or I'll make certain you can join her in the slowest and most horrendous manner I can come up with!'

Vishna looked at him disgusted and resentfully. 'I will not turn anyone against their will.'

Hermione grabbed a hold of Tom's wandarm before he could raise it to Imperius Vishna. Distracted, Tom looked into her eyes. She'd grabbed his arm. Surely, that should be a good sign? While he watched her in hopes of seeing some improvement in her condition, his eyes turned softer and the red colour evaporated.

'Hermione, please,' Tom whispered, leaning in closer to her face. 'I can undo it,' he confided in her, making Vishna raise his eyebrows.

'And what strings are attached to you doing that, Riddle?' Vishna asked suspiciously.

'None,' Tom replied, not taking his eyes of Hermione. He stroked through her hair. 'I promise. Please drink his blood; I can't stand the thought of losing you.'

Thinking of Rose and what it would mean to her if she was no longer around, Hermione nodded in an affirmative manner to Vishna who quickly held his bleeding wrist above her mouth. A few drops fell down, sealing the inevitable physiological change.

'The Digitalis in your body means you'll have to go through the old-fashioned method of the transformation,' Vishna explained apologetically. 'My blood will recognise you're dying and it won't start to transform your cells until that process is completed. On the upside of matters, I believe Rose will be absolutely ecstatic.'

Hermione produced a weak smile at the thought. 'We're never going to hear the end of it now. She'll harass you day and night to vampirise her too.'

Vishna grinned.

'How are you feeling?' Tom asked, concerned.

She shrugged. 'Same, I suppose.'

A sting of pain travelled through her upon seeing his beautiful dark eyes focusing on her caringly. If only he could be like that all the time … Why did things always have to be complicated? Why couldn't he just be a nice, normal wizard?

xXxXx

A few feet away, Prince Vlad monitored the situation with some apprehension. He had a hunch in advance that Vishna would have bitten the girl: the treacherous, scheming, plotting hypocrite. Attacking him over approaching Riddle, while all this time, Prince Perfect had his succession plotted to the minute detail.

_Accident, my arse__, _Vlad sneered in his mind.

No, he didn't buy one ounce of Vishna's story about being "drunk" at the time. If there was one thing no prince did by mistake, it was bite someone. The consequences were too far-reaching.

Even though Vlad knew this would get him out from underneath his debt, he wasn't happy. Any other vampire than Vishna he would have been fine with, but this … this complicated matters severely. He'd heard about Hermione Granger and her magical capabilities and knew this was going to ruin his plans altogether.

Then again, better have her ruin his plans than Lord Voldemort killing them all upon her death. He really needed to talk with Elizabeth and her unholy impulses that endangered the entire Order. Speaking of the devil, he saw her and Capet walking toward him. Vlad quickly stalked ahead to meet them halfway. He didn't think it was healthy for Bárthory to come anywhere near Riddle at the moment.

'Michael has caught the last dragon and they're all back behind the fence,' Gerard said calmly.

With some glee, Vlad observed that the expensive designer outfit Capet wore had been completely ruined. He had never liked the Frenchman and knew the feeling was quite mutual.

'Good to hear,' he replied shortly, 'anything else I need to know now?'

'We've lost no one in the process, but quite a lot are severely injured and our entire weapons facility has gone up in smoke. If we have to fight the Vasukis at Bonfire Night, then we are now at a huge disadvantage.'

'I'll look into it, thank you, Gerard,' Vlad replied matter-of-factly. 'Elizabeth, you have the keys to my castle. I suggest you go now and stay there. I'll handle Riddle, but I want you far away from this place at the moment, because I doubt I can hold him off in his current state of mind.'

Bárthory raised her eyebrows. 'They attacked us first,' she said, miffed. 'At a peaceful meeting, it was highly dishonourable.'

'I know, but why did you have to target the girl? Couldn't you just aim at the Vasuki idiot?'

'I did. He was spinning around to Apparate away. I wasn't aiming for Granger; though I can't say I am sorry I hit her, she cast the spell that blew the warded fence.'

'On the contrary Elizabeth, you're very, _very_ sorry you hit her, because now she, of all people, has drunk Prince Vishna's blood.'

Gerard whistled softly. But Bárthory turned pale, looking in the direction of Hermione Granger immediately as if that would make it untrue.

'Well, so much for gaining the upper hand in the Vampire Council if she is replacing Vishna,' Gerard said, snorting.

'You find this amusing, Capet?' Vlad hissed.

Gerard Capet smirked at his prince. 'Yes, I think I am finding this extremely amusing. Not everyone in the Dracul Order appreciates you saddling us up with _him_ again.'

'It is done,' Bárthory interrupted them matter-of-factly.

Both men stared at her dumbfounded, causing her to roll her eyes to the sky and nod towards Hermione. Vlad turned his head. In the upcoming dawn, he witnessed Riddle lifting the lifeless form of Hermione Granger into the tent he just conjured back up. Vishna followed him in, glancing back at Vlad questioningly.

'I've got to get in there. I suggest you leave now, Elizabeth. You'll be somewhat protected once you're behind the walls of my castle,' Vlad said. He turned to the other vampire. 'We are not done, Capet,' he added warningly and stalked away from them.

xXxXx

'Mummy, Mummy,' Rose shouted.

Hermione groaned when she felt Rose's hands shaking her. That shaking didn't help her already splitting headache.

'Mummy, you've got to wake up now,' Rose demanded, tapping impatiently with her foot on the floor.

Hermione opened her eyes, but her vision was rather … _odd_ and it made her feel incredibly dizzy. Slowly, she sat up, worried beyond her wildest dreams. Rose was here? Surely Riddle couldn't have taken over everything, while she was out cold? She grabbed a hold of the couch. This being a vampire thing sure didn't agree with her. Hermione blinked several times, but now the world was upside down and misty. Why did everybody have to make so much noise the entire time?

'Tom?' Hermione asked cautiously.

A hand was placed on her shoulder and Vishna responded. At least his voice wasn't so bloody loud.

'You're back inside Mount Krakatau, and don't worry, he is not here. Everyone is safe. I'll explain everything later, but try to remain still for now. It will get better in a couple of minutes,' he told her, before turning his attention to Rose. 'Leave your mother be, Rose, she'll need some time adjusting.'

'But I want to see her fangs,' Rose said, excited. 'Can I become a vampire now too, Uncle Vishna?'

'Of course not, you're still a kid,' James replied, annoyed. 'Don't you remember what Kolya told us? It's against the rules.'

'Pfffttt … rules and regulations,' Rose replied dismissively.

'If you become a vampire now, you'll always be this little,' James teased.

'I am not little, _stupid_,' Rose said angrily.

James snickered loudly. He nicked her knife and held it dangling above her head. 'Oh, really? Come and get it then, tiny, itty-bitty, little Rosie,' he said tauntingly.

Rose was about to draw her wand when Albus came to the rescue. He pushed James hard in his back. The knife clattered on the floor as James held out his hands to abate his fall.

'Ouch,' James groaned when his right knee impacted with the ground rather painfully.

Gleefully, Rose laughed out loud as James rubbed his painful knee, angry.

'Here, Rose,' Albus said kindly as he handed the knife back to Rose. 'Don't mind James. He is a prick. Nobody likes him.'

'Thank you, Albus. You are my new best friend now,' Rose said with sheer emphasis on every spoken word, and she stuck her tongue out to James, while hooking her arm in Albus's.

'Well, you're still little,' James said tauntingly.

'And you're still stupid,' Rose said, mimicking his tone and placing her free hand on her hip.

'Little.'

'Stupid.'

'Knock it off, the both of you. Hermione needs some peace and quietness,' Vishna said, strict. 'Now, shake hands and be friends again, otherwise you can both go to your rooms and stay there until you've learnt how to behave properly.'

Grudgingly, Rose and James shook hands. A knock on the door made Rose skip off to open it.

'Hi Jürgen,' she said, beaming.

'Hi,' replied Jürgen, his cheeks flushing, 'some of us are going to watch the Lavafall. Do you and your friends care to join us? With the Knot being active and all, Master Zhivoka says it will be spectacular.'

Rose turned around, looking at her mother and Vishna questioningly. 'Can we go?'

Hermione blinked several times. She finally recognised her surroundings. They were inside her quarters in Mount Krakatau. How, what, why?

'The mountain is secure?' she asked Vishna.

The vampire nodded. 'Very secure indeed. There are no Draculs, Death Eaters or Riddles here, anywhere.'

'What is a Lavafall?' James asked Jürgen curiously.

'It's like a waterfall but all fiery, because it's lava instead of water,' Jürgen explained, eager to show of his knowledge.

'It's really cool,' Rose added, her argument with James already forgotten.

'Jürgen?' Hermione interrupted, holding onto her head for some comfort. 'Is Master Zhivoka going to be at the fall, too? Because Lily and Albus have never seen it before and they are a bit too young to be alone down there without adult supervision for the first time.'

'I'm older than Rose,' Albus muttered, his green eyes sparkling indignantly.

'Yes, the Master is waiting for us at the trap door and I'll look after them before we get there,' Jürgen promised.

'Okay, but be careful you lot and do what Master Zhivoka tells you to do.'

'Yes, Auntie Hermione,' Lily replied. She ran to Jürgen and grabbed his outstretched hand. 'What is lava?' Lily asked him inquisitively.

The others promised Hermione to be safe, too. When finally the door flew shut behind them, she sighed with relief.

'Too loud?' Vishna said somewhat amused.

'Definitely. Is it going to remain this way?' Hermione asked, leaning back in the couch.

'The noise is something that takes some getting used to. Well, if you choose to remain a vampire. Anyway, certain things will get easier in time and other symptoms you're currently experiencing will fade, because they are merely transitional effects due to the changes inside your body.'

'If I choose to remain?'

'Yes,' Vishna said, while retrieving a small vial from inside his pocket and handing it over to her. 'I have been unable to check his story and the contents of this vial, naturally. However, according to Riddle, this should make your cells revert back to their original human form. He said you needed to drink half of it first, and then, repeat the same dose after twelve hours.'

Hermione stared at the vial in her hand questionably and somewhat suspiciously before raising her eyebrows and shrugging.

'It could be Bubotuber Pus for all I know,' Vishna added humorously.

Hermione laughed out loud, while she pocketed the vial. 'Somehow I doubt that,' she said thoughtfully. 'What happened after I … _died_?'

'Ah, well, Riddle had to let us go.'

'Had to?' Hermione repeated disbelievingly.

'Yeah, when you were dying, Vlad came to look for me and he was in quite a state of panic. Worried, you would end up amongst the worms and drag the entire Dracul Order down with you upon Riddle's wrath. So I made him swear a Vampire Vow to let us go if I were able to help him rescue you.'

'You bargained over my life?' Hermione stated in mock outrage.

'I would have told Vlad I had bitten you anyway, but I did not feel the need to share that information with him straight away,' Vishna said deviously. 'After all, we were pretty much trapped there and this was a perfect not to mention only escape route.'

'A rather deceptive, yet smart move,' Hermione replied, snickering.

'I liked it a lot, too. So Vlad made the vow to let us go, unharmed, which I might add the traitorous, devious sneak tried to get back on later by stating we acted dishonourably and broke our word first. Fortunately, I could honestly say that we had not sworn any oaths to not attack them since Riddle did make all the statements unilaterally in his little shouting fit at my mountain.'

'You said something to Bárthory about not using your weapons,' Hermione reminded Vishna.

'AHA! But I said to Lizzy that we had come there in peace with no intention to use our weapons unless so provoked. Riddle hexed and kidnapped you. I feel that was a suitable provocation.'

'Such a convenient feeling for you.'

'Yes, it was, wasn't it?' Vishna stated smugly. He was obviously mighty pleased with himself. 'Besides, Elizabeth wasn't there anymore to enlighten them on the stuff I said to her. Vlad must have been really concerned about her safety if he told her to leave. Liz is one hell of a warrior and it's a huge loss to their side, because come this evening, at least one extremely dangerous opponent I would have needed to slay down personally won't be there. And to top that, they lost all their weapons in the dragon stampede as well. I say that was one useful escapade we made, even though it seemed to backfire on us first.'

Contemplating on what Vishna had just told her, Hermione closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. She carefully stretched her arms above her head. Everything felt strange inside this new body, like her muscles weren't her own.

'So we're still stuck with his stupid ultimatum, and Riddle will attack as soon as the sun drops behind the horizon and Bonfire Night begins,' she summarised thoughtfully. 'How long till the sun sets?'

Vishna checked his watch. 'In about eleven hours.'

Quickly, Hermione pulled out the vial and opened it.

'I was hoping you'd reconsider,' Vishna said softly.

Hermione looked up. 'I'm sorry, Vishna, but I need to be able to focus tonight. If I remain a vampire, I will become just as crazy and hormone driven as the rest of you, and there is no way I can take Tom on in that state.'

'I understand,' said Vishna, trying to hide his obvious disappointment and failing miserably.

Hermione glared at the vial that was supplied to her by Tom "I am Lord Voldemort" Riddle. 'I must be out of my mind,' she muttered, before downing half of its contents.

Though somewhere in the back of her mind, a little voice said this potion was safe and it would do what Tom had promised her. However, Vishna was eyeing her up and down with some apprehension. Obviously, he was not so certain it was a safe liquid to pour into one's body.

'Waiting to see if I am going to sprout horns?' Hermione asked, amused, while closing the vial and placing it inside her pocket.

'Do you feel any different?' Vishna asked curiously.

'Nope, but …'

Hermione doubled over in pain. It felt as if her insides were being pulled and twisted in every direction. She grabbed a hold of her belly and crashed to the floor with a scream. Every single fibre of her being was sending out a painful stimulus. Vishna bent down beside her to lift her up.

'Don't touch me!' Hermione yelled, freaking out from the pain. 'It will be over any second now!'

Vishna withdrew his hands in shock and watched her worriedly. But a few seconds later, Hermione stopped twitching and writhing on the floor. Cautiously, she sat back up on her knees and breathed in deeply for a couple of times. Slowly, her face turned red. Her blood pulsed harder and harder as she waved with her hand to her face to cool down. It was very ineffective. Burning up inside, she flew to her feet, ran to the bathroom, and stepped underneath an ice-cold shower fully dressed.

'Hermione, what are you doing?' Vishna asked with a slight upward quirk of his mouth at her odd actions.

'Too hot,' she muttered. 'It will subside soon.'

'How do you know that?' Vishna replied, stunned.

'No idea. Oh, oh.'

Quickly, Hermione turned the cold water tap close and switched on the hot water. Steam filled the shower booth, and soon, the rest of the bathroom was completely damp as well.

'Hermione, are you crazy? Lava is heating our water. You'll get burn marks all over yourself if you don't mix it.' Vishna reached inside with his arm, but she slapped it away.

'No, don't. I will be fine,' she replied from underneath the too hot shower.

Vishna shook his head, but waited till she was done just the same. Some time passed before Hermione stepped out the shower booth soaking wet, steam emanating from her hair and clothes. A casual flick of her wand dried her up.

'Much better,' she noted and checked her appearance in the mirror. 'Hmm … the fangs must be last to go.'

Vishna was staring at her with his mouth open, unable to come up with anything remotely intelligent to say. Hermione calmly walked past him and closed his jaw with her hand. 'That makes you look extremely silly, Vishna.'

'How on earth did you know what was going to happen? Riddle hasn't said a word to me about the effects of that potion,' he said, baffled.

Hermione shrugged. 'Don't know. I just did. Maybe understanding what is going to happen is a part of the potion?' she speculated. 'One's mind is after all linked with one's body.'

Vishna murmured incoherently that he felt that was a highly convenient explanation, a bit too convenient considering the brewer's identity.

Hermione grinned. 'I still have vampire hearing abilities,' she warned. 'But we can speculate all we want about why I knew, it's pointless doing so without anything to go on. I would have to analyse the potion itself in order to make an educated, valid statement.'

'And since you need to ingest the rest …' Vishna trailed off.

'I can't,' she finished. 'So, before I forget, what was Sunny doing in the tent with you and Vlad? I hadn't expected to see her there.'

'I know. I was surprised when she entered, too. Normally, she stays away from Dracul business. You should have seen the look on Vlad's face when she came in,' he snickered. 'I had no idea those rumours were true. He suddenly turned into this stuttering, mumbling idiot – not that he isn't an idiot, anyway.' Vishna rolled his eyes. 'But it was incredibly entertaining, especially since I sincerely doubt the feeling is mutual.' He laughed loudly. 'Anyway, she handed me this,' –he pulled an envelope out of his pocket– 'in a rather sneaky manner I might say. Nobody noticed.'

Hermione accepted the envelope. On it was written in an unfamiliar script: "If you're Hermione, tap trice on the envelope with your wand."

She looked back up at Vishna. 'Did Sunny say anything to you?'

'No, but she couldn't. Vlad and Bárthory were still around. That she managed to slip me this unseen was a bloody miracle in itself. I'm telling you for someone named Sunny she sure as hell can operate in the dark. I never before met anyone so stealthy.'

'I know,' Hermione said, smiling as she pulled out her wand. 'She gives new meaning to the word.'

'She should be listed in the Oxford Dictionary under that word.'

Hermione tapped the envelope trice. A blinding flash followed, hitting her wand. It trembled, then, the envelope opened on its own. She just knew that if anyone else had tried to read its contents, they would have been wandless right now. Curious, she pulled out the parchment inside. When she saw the handwriting, she nearly dropped everything in shock. She would recognise that script anywhere. She had seen it for six years in school and they'd exchanged many letters afterwards. But it couldn't be. Apprehensively, not wanting to get her hopes up and be disappointed, she moved to the end of the scroll to read the valediction and signature.

_Love__, _

_Harry. _

'He's alive!' Hermione exclaimed happily, jumping Vishna. 'Harry is still alive!'

'B-bu-but ... I thought you said everybody died in that explosion?' Vishna asked the cheering witch around his neck.

'That's what I thought. He must have found a way out before the blast.'

She let go of Vishna and started reading vigorously.

'Potter sure has more lives than a cat,' Vishna muttered, shaking his head astonished.

Hermione shrieked, making Vishna jump into the air in shock.

'Ginny and Ron are alive, too … Oh, this is great news. Lily and Albus can finally go to sleep without crying.'

'What about your husband?'

Hermione shook her head sadly. 'No, just the three of them. Everyone else has perished: Viktor, Neville, Hannah, George, Minerva, Kingsley … Tom sure knew when to strike,' she said quietly.

'Seems to me all he did was fail in killing Potter again. Just how many times has he tried to do that now: five, six?'

Hermione shrugged. 'I lost count,' she replied, reading on.

'I'd open a betting pool on the next time if the odds would have been a bit less obvious,' Vishna said, snorting.

Her eyes widened. 'They are here,' she said, appalled.

'What?' Vishna snapped, disturbed. 'Then, why the hell haven't they tried to help us a couple of hours ago? Surely, they noticed you taking a knife to the chest.'

'They're experiencing problems taking down Tom's wards,' Hermione said, her eyes flying over the sentences on the scroll. 'It's no surprise, really,' she muttered, 'since Tom is using Godric's theory to build them. Harry has never read the book, so he has no idea how to tear those down.'

'Godric's theory? You mean as in Godric Gryffindor?' Vishna snarled.

Hermione raised her eyebrows when she recalled Vishna's age. 'Did you know him?'

'Did I know him? Did I know him? Pfftttt …' Vishna spat. 'Yes, I knew him. I knew them both: Mr. Arrogant and Mr. Pompous. Oh, we are so smart, because we built a school. Big deal.'

'I take it you weren't exactly friends,' Hermione said, smirking.

'That would be an understatement,' Vishna said, his cheeks turning red. 'They were dangerous maniacs, especially together. Always screwing around with powers they did not fully comprehend. Powers, others were smart enough to leave be. But to them it was more important to be remembered as great sorcerers. Gotta show everyone you are on top of the world. Pricks, the both of them, utter pricks. Mr. Courage and Mr. Ambition, phooey,' Vishna ranted dismissively, 'like nothing else matters in this world. Well, I suppose their tiny, little brains couldn't handle more than one virtue. You've got to keep the world simple, no matter what the cost. It's a blessing to everyone they ended up bashing each other's heads in. No doubt, their hugely inflated heads couldn't stand to be in the same room and share the glory anymore. They had to start a competition to find out which one of them was the greatest wizard. It really shouldn't surprise me Riddle is using their theories. He is just as big a nutcase as they were. Come to think of it …'

Entertained, Hermione coughed softly. This was the first time someone had spoken this unflattering about the two Hogwarts' Founders in her presence and she felt it was rather funny. But they did have more pressing matters at hand than two dead wizards, so she intervened in his rant, knowing how long Vishna could go on if he was on a roll.

Vishna shrugged. 'Well, they were idiots, really,' he said defensively.

'Whatever you say, Vishna,' Hermione replied, holding out her palms in surrender. She was not in the mood to start a debate with a furious vampire. 'To summarise our situation, Harry and the others are here, but they can't get to us. And Riddle is going to send the Draculs into the mountain after sunset.'

'Can't you take down that ward of his?'

'Probably, but it will take time and I can't do it from inside this mountain. I'll have to be near to the ward,' Hermione said, contemplating on her options. 'I also doubt I am going to be able to tear it down without Tom noticing what I am doing.'

'So that is a no-go either,' decided Vishna, 'since it is you Riddle is after.'

'Hmmm …' Hermione replied thoughtfully.

'Come on, don't tell me your surrender is not what he demanded,' Vishna said disbelievingly. 'I can just hear him. Come to me willingly and I'll leave everybody else alone. Pfftt … like I am going to allow such nonsense.'

'It is what he said, however …'

'No, no howevers, buts, maybes or other excuses. It is you he is after and he is not getting his wish. I'm not afraid of a little fight with the Draculs and neither is any other vampire in here. We'll get you and everyone who is not a full vampire into the Isis Vault before sunset, and then, Riddle can attack all he wants. The only one who can open that vault is me. Riddle can't hurt us, but we sure as hell can hurt him.'

'You're no longer the only one who can open the vault,' Hermione said softly. 'It's your blood that can. Even though this potion is reverting me back to my old self, your blood will still be a part of me for the next twelve hours.'

Vishna stared at her. His mouth fell open in horror. 'You're saying that Riddle can get inside the vault due to your bloodbond. But how …? He couldn't have counted on you becoming a vampire beforehand, and he certainly had no way to be sure I would be the one to turn you.'

'I don't think it is what he was counting on, but I doubt he will let the opportunity slip now it is there. I believe he originally planned on opening the vault by using our bond in the ancient Mayan magical manner that would enable him to override Isis Blood Locks if I am on the other side of the door.'

'Wait a second … you can't possibly be thinking what I think you are,' Vishna said, horrified.

Hermione nodded seriously. 'I can't be inside the vault tonight, Vishna. I will endanger everyone who is inside of it if I am.'

'You just drank that damn potion! You can't be outside the vault tonight or you'll be in danger from all of us!'

'I had to drink that potion or your blood would remain even longer inside of me. You do realise that I would become just as irrational as the rest of you on Bonfire Night, and Tom would have had no qualms in using my blood-relationship to you to his advantage. The type of magic he plans on using might not work on you, Vishna, due to the old protections on whoever is the vampire prince, but it will most certainly work on me. Right now, all I have to do is hold Tom off for one hour, and then, the vault will be secured again.'

'The vault! The vault!' Vishna repeated furiously. 'What about you? You do realise you're no longer a full vampire and that you are talking about spending Bonfire Night inside a vampire stronghold, which is lying under siege by another vampire clan, while you're slowly turning completely human again?'

'I am very much aware of the risks involved, Vishna,' Hermione stated calmly.

'No, I don't think you are or you wouldn't be trying to commit suicide-by-proxy,' Vishna rebutted, angry. 'You're going inside that vault, period. We'll keep Riddle at bay.'

Now, Hermione's jaw was set equally determined as his. 'No, I am not going inside the vault and you're not going to make me. You have other lives to consider besides mine, Vishna, and so do I. If Tom opens that vault on Bonfire Night, everyone in it is going to be in jeopardy.'

Vishna growled. 'Okay, take the damn Uraeus Bracelet and go to him. At least then you and everyone else will be safe. I doubt he is going to risk Apparating inside the mountain if he already has what he came for.'

'He can't have it,' Hermione said sadly. 'He absolutely must not get his hands on that bracelet. I believe he is too near to completing the set to allow him ownership to even one more item.'

Vishna sighed. 'Is there anything I can say to talk you out of this?'

'No, I don't think so,' Hermione said, certain.

'What about Rose?'

'What about her?'

'Surely, staying alive for your daughter must be more important to you, then keeping some silly piece of jewellery out of Riddle's hands.'

'Are you aware of what that silly piece of jewellery is capable of producing?' Hermione replied, getting angry herself. 'And are you really, _really_ suggesting that I should take it to Lord Voldemort along with myself?'

Vishna stared at Hermione surprised. 'I don't think he will use it on you, Hermione.'

Hermione snorted in response.

'No, really, I am serious,' Vishna said, certain. 'He practically freaked out completely when you were about to die. I believe he truly loves you. That bracelet … well … he must know what it does.'

'Oh, he loves me alright. But you're delusional if you think for one moment that he won't use the bracelet because of that. He will use it, because he loves me. It will be his alibi. I can just imagine the deranged arguments he will come up with. Tom doesn't truly know how to deal with emotions like love in a normal healthy manner. Hell, I had to get a deathbed vow out of him last night to make certain Rose would have been safe from him in the future.'

'Why don't you use it?' Vishna said quietly.

'What?' Hermione asked.

Vishna began to smile broadly. 'That is it, the answer to everything! You slip the damn thing on his wrist and all our problems are over.'

'Oh yeah, piece of cake,' Hermione said sarcastically. 'I'll just get him to accidentally hold out his hand and jam the thing around his wrist without him noticing what I am doing.'

'Are you certain he will place the bracelet on your arm if he gets a hold of you both?' Vishna asked, while grinning mischievously.

'Pretty certain,' replied Hermione, frowning at Vishna's expression.

'And if I recall it correctly, he needs to part the two snakes of the bracelet before placing the receiving one on your wrist and the commanding one on his, right?'

'Still not seeing where …'

'Can't you switch the two snakes somehow? Make him believe the receiver is the commanding one?'

Astonished, Hermione looked at the snickering prince. 'That might …' she started.

'… work?' Vishna finished, raising his eyebrows deviously, thoroughly pleased with his idea.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. 'I'll have to look into the magic of the two parts to be sure it will work, but I remember something Rowena Ravenclaw wrote down on shifting the properties of one object to another. I might be able to apply that here as long as Wadjet did not protect her bracelet against someone shifting the balance.'

Vishna clapped his hands in excitement. 'Let's go get the bracelet then. You check whether you can switch whatever it is that needs switching. And if it works, all you need to do is: take the bracelet and yourself to Riddle, and we all live happily ever after.'

'In the beautiful castle … in the far, far away Kingdom,' Hermione added dryly, because she had started to realise there was still the slight issue in achieving it all without Riddle getting suspicious and noticing what happened to the bracelet.

'Exactly what I was thinking,' Vishna boosted back joyously. It seemed that no amount of sarcasm was going to bring his newfound upbeat mood down. 'It will be a walk in the park.'

'Oh yeah, easy does it,' Hermione mocked in the same joyous tone. 'Tom will never suspect a thing. Everybody knows he is pretty daft en gullible.'

'Now, there is the true vampire spirit,' Vishna said proudly, ignoring the obvious underlying jest in Hermione's sentence and slapping her on her back. 'Follow me.'

'And said spirit is going to die along with every other insane plan when we walk with our heads in the clouds of fairytale land,' Hermione muttered sceptically at the cheerful prince's back, while they moved along the corridors to retrieve the bracelet in question.


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **Not mine, no money. Can I get it any shorter than this? ;-)

**A/N: **A big hug and thanks to everyone who reviewed: patie, Lilipop10122, vampirelover2009, Sailor2Moon, hatami, Rena Katsueki, IceAgeSurvivor123, ilovesiriusorionblack, Summer Leah, shinobinaraku, ilovenat1995, siddyi, abbelmus, RedPhoenix23, BlueSkyHeaven.

* * *

**Masters of Manipulation: Part Two**

**Chapter 10**

Heat: overwhelming, suppressing heat surrounded them; coming from the lava bubbling in the "pool" beneath the raised, rocky platform they stood on. They were all gathered behind the thick rope that hung in arches between copper poles, watching how right across from their position lava sprang from an opening in the rock ceiling and plummeted down in various intensities and speeds.

Sometimes a huge bubble would cling to the ceiling, growing exponentially, until it burst and rained down like fireworks, striking the ward around the platform violently. Other times, it would stream down continuously, slowly, evenly, and peacefully, changing colour from red to yellow to bright white at the centre. Right now, the Lavafall resembled the top of the volcano when it blew. It sprayed its fiery molten rock around the entire cave, causing the ward to light up as it kept the deadly contents from reaching the people behind the rope.

The Potters looked at it mesmerised as Master Zhivoka explained to all the new children the important functions the Lavafall had for the Vasukis. Rose, having heard the lecture before, leaned against the far wall, timing the intervals between the explosions, as Jürgen chatted to her.

_Hungry … need something to eat … something juicy …_

'You're hungry?' she asked, looking at him puzzled. 'Didn't you eat breakfast?'

He looked at her, dumbfounded. 'I didn't say I was hungry.'

Rose frowned. She could swear …

_Food nearby … I can smell it. _

'Did you hear that?' She turned around and looked at the wall.

'Hear what?'

'It's coming from the wall.'

'What is?'

'That voice,' Rose explained, absentminded.

She pulled on the rope, dangling from the ceiling, and a ladder dropped. Quickly, she started climbing back up.

'Rose,' Jürgen hissed, looking over his shoulder to the Potters and Master Zhivoka. 'We were supposed to stay together. I told your mum I'd look out for you.'

'She only made you promise to watch the Potters,' Rose said over her shoulder.

'Yeah, well …' Jürgen hesitated, his head swivelling between her and the others doubtfully.

'Come on, Jürgen, I don't need a babysitter.' Rose reached the top and stepped to the side; looking back down through the opening, she added, 'I'll be right back. Have to check this out.'

He sighed. Figuring the Potters would be alright with Master Zhivoka watching them, he quickly started climbing the ladder, too. 'Wait for me!'

When he reached the top, Rose stood at the end of the corridor with her ear pressed to the left wall. He ran to her.

'The voice is coming from somewhere behind this wall,' she said, stepping back and frowning.

'There isn't anything but rock behind that wall,' Jürgen replied, knowing the lay-out of the Vasuki tunnels and chambers by heart.

'I know,' Rose said, irritated. 'But I hear someone.'

She raised her wand.

'Rose!' She turned her head when James came running also. 'What are you doing?'

'She is hearing voices,' Jürgen explained, making a face.

'Voices?'

_Maybe a nice Acromantula … Bunnies are yummy, too ... Wouldn't say no to a disgusting Thestral right about now …_

'Don't you two hear that?' Rose said, gesturing with her wand to the wall aggravated. 'It wants to eat bunnies.'

'Bunnies …? I didn't hear a thing, Rose,' James said carefully; he glanced to Jürgen who shook his head. 'Jürgen too, and he has better hearing than us.'

'I am telling you someone is in that wall,' she replied bossily, strengthening her jaw. 'Get back,' she ordered, raising her wand.

Both boys stepped aside. Just in time, because Rose flicked her wrist. 'Defol? No … ermm…' She paused, thinking hard, and then, flicked her wrist again. '_Defodio!_'

A tunnel dug itself in the hard rock surface of the wall.

'Cool,' James said, reaching for the wand Aunt Hermione had given him. 'You've got to teach me that.'

'Sure, later,' she replied offhandedly. '_Lumos!_'

The tip of her wand lit up. Raising it before her, she stepped into the dark tunnel, quickly followed by Jürgen and James.

'Lu … Lumos,' James spoke, but nothing happened. 'Ro-ose, how did you get your wand to light up? I can't see a thing.'

Sighing, she stopped and turned around in the narrow tunnel. Raising her wand as a lantern, she glanced past Jürgen, who pressed himself against the wall, so she could see James. 'Show me what you did.'

He held his wand up and spoke, 'Lumos.'

'You have to be certain it's going to light, otherwise it won't work,' Rose tutored.

'How can I be certain if it doesn't work,' James grumbled, shaking his wand several times in annoyance.

'Try to think you have a flashlight in your hand and are pressing the button. That always gives light.'

'Unless the battery is empty,' Jürgen added, grinning to Rose.

Rose scowled at him. 'Not helping,' she hissed.

He raised his hands in the air apologetically, but the way he had to bite his lip to prevent from laughing out loud was telling. Rose punched him in the arm, hard. 'Don't mind him, James, just try again.'

James concentrated. He had to try it a couple of times. But with a few more directions from Rose, he got the tip of his wand to resemble the wick of a candle and a bit of light spread around him.

'Yes!' Rose cheered. 'You got it.'

James smiled at her proudly. However, Jürgen smirked mockingly at the amount of light James was producing and the half vampire was about to say something when Rose glared at him warningly, making his mouth snap shut immediately. Although the condescending expression didn't vacate his face as they walked on in silence. Light met them as they reached the end of Rose's tunnel. She flicked her wand and looked over her shoulder to Jürgen questioningly. He seemed baffled, placing his hands on either side against the wall and leaning forward into the place Rose hadn't created.

'There is not supposed to be a corridor here. I am sure of it.'

'I am seeing one,' Rose said dryly, before jumping the few feet down into it.

'Rose, you don't know what's out there,' Jürgen commented, concerned.

'Only one way to find out,' James said, wriggling past him and jumping into the corridor, too.

'We should warn security,' Jürgen said sensibly. 'What if the Draculs made this corridor?'

'Good idea,' James replied shortly. 'Why don't _you_ do that?'

'These candleholders are really old,' Rose said, pointing to the brackets on the wall.

She turned and eyed the corridor on both sides. Loud sniffs echoed around them. Jürgen immediately jumped in the corridor, too. His hand went to his knife-holster.

'What's that?' James asked, alarmed.

_Company … haven't had visitors in ages … _

'Did you hear that?' Rose said, excited.

'Yes, I heard something hiss,' he replied.

'It's coming from that direction,' Jürgen said, frowning as he pointed to the end of the corridor.

_Vishna rarely stops by these days …_

'He knows Vishna,' Rose said, excited, and she started running.

'Rose! What are you talking about? I couldn't understand a thing of it!' James screamed, shocked. 'That didn't sound human. Rose!'

Both boys looked at each other and quickly ran after her. However, Rose reached the corner first and gasped when she looked into it. Her eyes widened in delight. James shrieked in horror behind her, slapping his hands in front of his mouth as he realised his error. But the beast didn't move; it was busy snacking on something they couldn't identify.

'Bloody hell, what kind of snake is that?' Jürgen whispered, his skin paler than normal as he looked at the enormous beast with his knife in his hand.

'A Basilisk,' Rose and James said simultaneously, though unlike Rose, James wasn't happy about it.

Beedle swallowed his food and turned to the voices behind him.

'Don't look at it!' James yelled fearfully, grabbing Jürgen and Rose and attempting to drag them out of there, while closing his eyes. Rose yanked herself from his grip. 'Rose!'

A stream of Parseltongue slithered around them. James froze, confused. Was that coming from Rose?

The beast hissed back.

Carefully, James glanced underneath his arm. In the reflection on the wall, he saw that Rose stood right in front of the Basilisk's head, looking it straight in the eye without any problem, while she patted the beast's cheek and hissed to it. Rose was a Parselmouth?

The Basilisk closed its eyes and placed its head on the floor. Rose turned to them; her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling happily. 'You can look now. I told Beedle to keep his eyes closed, he won't kill you.'

'Beedle?' Jürgen said feebly. 'As in "The Bard"?'

James made a face in response and shrugged. Doubtful, the boys looked up and examined the motionless monster apprehensively. It seemed to be listening to what Rose had told it to do.

'Isn't he beautiful?' Rose exclaimed, stroking the scarlet plume caringly. She could just reach it if she tiptoed.

'Sure,' Jürgen said dryly, 'very beautiful.'

'You can pet him if you like, he doesn't bite. He's a friendly Basilisk.'

She looked at them expectantly, causing them to shuffle on their feet. Neither wanted to acknowledge to Rose they'd rather do anything else, so … both of them stepped forward, slowly, until they were touching the Basilisk on the other side of his giant head – carefully stroking Beedle's skin.

'He's lonely,' Rose stated. 'Maybe we can find him another Basilisk to play with?'

'Just what the world needs: more Class A killers …' James muttered underneath his breath.

A muffled chuckle left Jürgen's lips. 'Wow, this feels odd,' he commented, looking at the skin with interest. 'I thought it would feel like a snake, but it feels more like dragon hide.'

James nodded. 'It's just like Uncle Ron's jacket.'

A soft, content hiss left Beedle's mouth as they patted him. James and Jürgen froze, making Rose giggle.

'You scared them with that hiss,' she said to Beedle in Parseltongue, amused.

Beedle snickered and lifted his lip on her side, showing off his giant fang teasingly. Rose laughed loudly. 'No, they are my friends. You're not going to frighten them.'

'Too late,' Beedle hissed, entertained. 'I can smell their fear. It's exquisite. Smells like food to me.'

'You're also not going to eat them,' Rose said, narrowing her eyes.

Beedle sighed, disappointed. 'Fine, but tell Vishna I'm dying for some Acromantula as a dessert.' He smacked his lips in anticipation.

'You never told me you were a Parselmouth,' James said accusatory.

Rose turned red. She bit her lip. 'I was supposed to keep it a secret. Mum will kill me,' she muttered the last bit, while her mind sprung into overdrive.

'My dad used to be a Parselmouth, but he can't do it anymore.'

'Oh, why not?' Jürgen asked, stroking Beedle again.

James shrugged. 'Don't know. He won't talk about it.'

'Ermmm… James, Jürgen,' Rose said hesitantly, turning her big brown eyes pleadingly. 'You won't tell anyone, right?'

'Tell what?' Jürgen asked, confused.

'That I am a Parselmouth,' she explained, eyeing them intensely.

'Why do you keep it a secret?' James inquired.

'Because …' she replied loosely, looking down at the wand twirling between her fingers to hide her expression. 'We can make it _our_ secret, just like vampire brethren do!' She looked up innocently and held out her hand to them. 'We make the Vampire Vow of Secrecy.'

'The Vampire Vow …' Jürgen mumbled doubtfully.

'Come on, it means we'll be friends forever,' Rose coaxed.

'What's the Vampire Vow of Secrecy?' James asked, taking a hold of Rose's hand as to demonstrate _his_ willingness to be her friend.

'It binds you together through blood,' Jürgen explained, sticking his hands firmly inside his pocket. 'You'll be sworn to uphold each others' secrets for life.'

'Exactly,' Rose said cheerfully. She reached into her pants and pulled out the knife **he** had made for her. 'I'll go first.'

She pricked her finger with it and held it out between the two boys with an anticipatory expression. James immediately took it and copied her action, holding out the knife to Jürgen daringly. The half vampire merely eyed it warily.

'Don't you want to be my friend?' Rose asked, making her lip quiver slightly, as she took a hold of James's hand again as if she was reaching for support.

Jürgen sighed, grabbed the knife, slashed his wrist, and clasped his hand on theirs, not noticing the triumphant flash his action sent through Rose's eyes. She accepted the knife back from him and pocketed it next to her wand, keeping her fingers around both items without the boys' knowledge.

'Blood for blood, we vow to stay true to ye. Blood for blood, we vow to loyalty. Blood for blood, we'll remain silently. Blood for blood,' Rose ended, clutching firmly to her wand, willing it to work, needing it to work.

'Blood for blood,' Jürgen repeated.

They both looked at James. 'Er… oh, blood for blood,' he copied.

_That_ was supposed to be the end of it. However, Rose's will was strong, causing magic to swirl around their clasped hands. Quickly, Jürgen tried to withdraw his hand, but he was too late. He no longer could.

'My blood in charge of ye,' Rose added with a triumphant smirk on her face.

The boys' expression turned vacant. Rose removed her hand and stepped in front of James first. Making eye contact, she said intently: 'You. Won't. Tell.'

James blinked, swaying on his feet.

'You. Won't. Tell,' Rose repeated forcefully, her knuckles white from the firm grip she had on her wand.

'I won't tell,' he said, his expression dazed.

'Go back to the others,' Rose ordered, watching satisfied as he went before turning her attention to Jürgen and repeating the procedure. 'I'll be back as soon as I can,' Rose promised, patting Beedle on his head.

As she stalked away from the cave chamber herself, Beedle called out after her: 'Don't forget about my dessert!'

xXxXx

'Do you think Hermione got our letter already?' Ron asked, concerned.

Harry nodded. 'She should have woken as a vampire hours ago.'

'I can't believe Riddle let them walk.'

'I can't believe he didn't kill that bitch vampire,' Ginny said, gritting her teeth.

'Yeah,' Ron agreed, 'mighty disappointing. I was hoping they would be at each other's throats now.'

'Probably why he didn't do it,' Harry said casually. 'I doubt she is safe. He's got a long memory.'

'And gets an Outstanding Plus for holding onto grudges,' Ron added humorously.

Vengefully, Ginny rubbed her hands together. She enjoyed envisioning what would happen to Elizabeth Bárthory an awful lot.

Ron sighed. 'Still … if Hermione got our letter, she knows we're here. Why hasn't she tried to contact us? We can't assist her if we're stuck out here, and you wrote that we need help with his stupid ward.'

Harry shrugged. 'There can be many reasons, Ron. Maybe she can't tear it down either?'

'Bullocks.'

'Okay, maybe she can't tear it down without him noticing?'

Ron didn't say anything to that, which was a sure sign he –albeit grudgingly– agreed with Harry's suggestion.

'How is it going, Luna?' Seamus asked.

'Nothing, not a thing,' Luna replied, watching the ward frustrated.

'Let me try again,' Ginny said.

Luna rose from her seat and extracted her wand from the Wardbreaker that wasn't breaking any wards any time soon. Ginny quickly took her place behind the Wardbreaker, inserted her wand in the opening, and added her magical force to it. A solid beam of black struck the ward again.

'It should come down,' Ron said, shaking his head. 'I don't get why it won't.'

'There is something off about that ward,' Luna answered. 'I can't put my finger on it; but every time I thought I had it, it seemed to shift, and suddenly, strengthened exponentially.'

Harry scratched his neck. His mind flew to four heavy, leather books he destroyed a long time ago. Surely, Riddle couldn't …? No, Voldemort didn't know about the four pages. Even if he did, he had no idea where they were, and he would most certainly not search _there_. No, this ward must be Riddle's own creation – maybe based on Gryffindor's theory? Merlin, now, he wished he'd read the damn book before destroying it.

'Harry?'

'Yes?'

He turned around and looked at a fully-clothed Sunny. She even wore some protective gear over her head. Odd. Sunny never missed an opportunity to expose herself to the sun.

'I can't risk staying any longer. I'll be a threat to you all in a few hours. I have to reach my nearest secure location before dusk. I'll leave the weapons I got from Vlad with you, but …'

Large, bold, fiery letters formed between Sunny and Harry, right in front of his face, stopping her from finishing her sentence.

_**In case I fail, his wards need a bit of temporal energy to be taken down. Time-Turner sand should do it. Dimension-Turner's won't. I can't break his wards now without being spotted, but I've got a plan. Don't worry about the children, they are at a safe location. Stay put on Bonfire Night. Whatever happens, do not intervene, Hermione.**_

Slowly, the letters burned up, leaving them standing flabbergasted. Then, they started to talk through one another.

'In case I fail? Stay put? What's she thinking?'

'Temporal energy, no wonder we can't break them. Ginny, you can stop casting.'

'If only we could find some Whosobee,' Luna said dreamily. 'They excrete Time-Turner sand.'

'Why didn't she write her plan down? Unbelievable, really unbelievable.'

'Dimension-Turners, how can she possibly know about them? They're classified Unspeakable Gear,' Parvati said, baffled.

Ron shrugged, not caring about that part of the message. 'I don't like the "whatever happens" bit, Harry.'

'Me neither. Where can we get some Time-Turner sand?'

xXxXx

Now retrieving Wadjet's Bracelet was no issue – switching the powers nevertheless turned slightly problematic. Hermione had worked on it for hours, occasionally being disturbed by Rose, who was incredibly disappointed that her mother would turn into a human again and wanted to see her fangs every now and then as long as they were still there. Hermione lifted the two parts of the bracelet, checking them from all sides, before reattaching them to one another. Running her hands through her hair, she looked doubtful at the Ureaus Bracelet when the door opened and Vishna entered.

'How are you doing with the bracelet?' he asked curiously.

'You tell me,' Hermione responded evenly and held it out to him.

He took the item from her and started examining it. Vishna detached the snakes, waved his wand at them, and eventually, looked at Hermione.

'I don't see any difference. Were you able to switch the powers?'

Hermione smiled deviously. 'Oh yeah.'

'Really?' Vishna replied, excited. He lifted the two snakes closer to his eyes and watched them more thoroughly. 'Wow, I really can't see you've fumbled around with it. You are brilliant, Granger. This will work.'

'Perhaps …' Hermione said doubtfully, stroking her forehead again with a painful expression.

'What's the matter?'

'Nothing, just a little headache, must be from the transformation.'

Vishna shrugged. 'I wouldn't know. You are the first to revert back. Can't you take a Painkiller Potion?'

'I'd rather not. I don't know if it will clash with Tom's potion.'

'Well, now that you've switched the bracelet's powers, you can go over there and make him tell you,' Vishna said, gloating over the prospect.

Hermione gave him a small smile. 'We'll see …'

'What's with the defeated expression? You're going to succeed, Hermione. He is not going to know what hit him when he puts those bracelets on the both of you and tries to activate them.' Vishna snickered gleefully. 'Too bad I will be in no condition to witness the event.'

Hermione took the bracelet back from Vishna and pocketed it without another glance at what she considered to be the dead giveaway to the transformation of powers on the bracelet.

_Tom will notice, send me one of those annoying, overbearing, smug smirks, and I will never hear the end of it_, she thought darkly. _Did you really think this pathetic attempt to fool Lord Voldemort would work, darling? _she imitated mentally._ I am so touched you agree with me that these would fit us perfectly. They are such a wonderful symbolism to illustrate our union. Let's put them on properly, shall we, Hermione? It would be a shame if you forgot that your rightful place is to serve me._

_Ugh. _

Her eyes darkened considerably. Really, having to deal with the attitude alone was reason enough not to risk it. The fact that Vishna missed she switched the powers wasn't enough to convince her Tom would miss it as well. Then again, every person alive could tell her the bracelet seemed fine, she would still see the difference and stay convinced Tom would notice it, too. If only she had more time …

However, the sun was going to set soon. 'We need to get the people inside the vault,' she said.

'Kolya is taking care of that and …'

The door slammed open. Distressed, Rose ran in. 'Mum, Mum!' She grabbed a hold of her mother's robes and started tugging on them, trying to drag Hermione with her. 'You need to come into the vault with me, Mummy. You need to.'

'Honey, what's the matter?' Hermione asked, concerned.

'Fylandro said to Yvinia that you're going to go to Voldemort so everyone will be safe. You can't, Mummy. You can't leave me, too,' Rose implored; her chin quivered and tears were beginning to fall down her cheek.

Briefly, Hermione glanced to the now obviously angry Vishna, trying to tell him to calm down wordlessly with her eyes. For the past couple of hours, she had been expecting an outburst from Rose ever since the Potter children were told their parents had made it, unlike Viktor. Fylandro's comment merely triggered Rose's necessary mourning reaction, even though she had to admit the timing sucked severely. She hugged Rose to her chest, while addressing the vampire.

'Could you give us a moment, Vishna?'

Vishna nodded. 'Keep an eye on the time, Hermione. I can't close the vault _and_ bring you across the threshold simultaneously.'

'I know.'

The vampire prince took one last glance at the crying, little girl and stalked out of Hermione's quarters with his fists clenched. Hermione's advanced hearing capabilities could still make out his grumbling words about killing his brainless second-in-command to make certain his big mouth would remain shut forever.

Hermione sat down on the sofa, pulled Rose in her lap, and eventually, she was able to calm down her daughter somewhat by allowing her to express her feelings concerning Viktor's death. Though, in the end, the little girl was still adamant that her mother should go hide with her. Rose's angry, brown eyes were the last thing Hermione saw when the Vault of Isis closed with a heavy and solid thud behind the young girl. A relieved sigh fell from her lips, making Vishna smile understandingly. A few moments ago, Rose had got the unholy idea of going with her mother and it had taken her a lot of convincing before Rose came to terms with the fact that it was not a good idea. She really couldn't take Rose along where she was planning to head to. Fortunately, now, the girl was safe along with the other humans and half vampires. She turned to face Vishna.

'Time to get you out of here,' the prince said, calm.

'I am sorry for having deceived you, Vishna,' Hermione merely said and Apparated to another location inside the mountain, abruptly.

'_NOOO!_' Vishna's horrified scream bounced off the walls, his eyes darting to the clock. 'Find her, quickly, before it starts.'

'She can be anywhere,' Kolya said, concerned.

'We can't pinpoint her position in the mountain without activa–' Mika started.

'I don't care. Alert everyone. I want her out of this mountain before the change. She will only be a half vampire for another hour. After that …' he halted and stared at the two others present, who weren't moving. 'Why aren't you searching already?' he yelled.

'Really, Vishna, do you believe it is a good idea to inform other vampires that she is out there? We only have five more minutes until the sun sets. What if someone finds her just before the change?' Kolya said reasonably.

In frustration, Vishna started pacing the aisle of the Central Hall to and fro.

'What is she thinking? She'll never make it. Stupid wizards and witches … always thinking that magic will get them out of everything. No Muggle would have been this foolish. Hermione should have known better. She can never cast those curses fast enough to stop us all. Why is she doing this?'

But his furious mussing was over the moment the clock chimed and his vampire instincts went into full gear. At the same time, Tom Riddle waved his wand and cast the spell that isolated the Isis Knot from the rest of the Vasuki home base. With a loud crash, the outside wards came tumbling down and everything turned into chaos when the all out war between the Draculs and the Vasukis began.

xXxXx

'Diffindo!' Hermione cast, striking down the vampire in her path.

She swirled around and wiped out the one coming from the other side as well. Quickly, she ran, _again_. This corridor was no longer a good place to remain. She turned around corner after corner and tried to keep her bearings. She was getting too close to the centre of the mountain. A detour would be advisable. She'd deemed Apparition too risky, since you never knew in advance who else would be at the location you Apparated into; but she had to stay clear of the mountain's main chambers. Otherwise she would surely run into more problems.

Stealthy, she moved past a junction that revealed another corridor where a Dracul and Vasuki vampire were fighting relentlessly. She turned around the corner on her right without being seen by them and skulked back to the outskirts of the passageways. A smile crossed her face when she passed Huan who was lying on the floor surrounded by several bottles of Haemoscotch, singing loudly. Huan had never been a fighter and cheered her, before downing his next bottle. A relieved sigh escaped her when she made it to the crossing she wanted to be in one piece. Panting heavily, her heart rate up, she leaned against the wall. This was a good place with several exits to choose from in case of an emergency. Though, she kept her wand and knife at the ready, just in case.

So far she'd been lucky and had only ran into a few vampires who weren't exactly combat specialists, but Hermione knew very well no amount of magic would save her if she ran into someone higher up the ranks or, Merlin forbid, one of the princes. They could move so bloody fast you didn't even have time to think, let alone pronounce a single syllable of any spell. It was one of the reasons why vampires rarely used magic in battle. It was too slow for them.

Fortunately, she knew this mountain and all its corridors like the back of her hand. Also fortunate was that the vampires were completely out of their minds at the moment, so any attack they made was not done silently. She had time to cast a spell, because she could hear them coming a mile away, even after her advanced hearing abilities disappeared along with every other vampire qualities she'd had when she returned completely human again. She wiped the sweat of her forehead, while her breathing and pulse calmed down. A quick glance on her watch told her it had only started an hour-and-a-half ago.

She'd tricked Vishna into making him believe she would allow him to escort her to Riddle, because she knew he would make her stay _"safe"_ inside the vault if he had any idea of what she was planning. That would endanger Rose and everybody else. She could not allow it. But she also could not go and surrender herself to Riddle in a calm, risk-free environment. Hermione was certain if she went over there with the bracelet, it would arouse so much suspicion that Tom would examine it until he was blue in the face. And he would see that she tampered with it. It was not invisible; nothing was untraceable. Even though he had not read the majority of Rowena's book, he still knew certain aspects of her theories by having read the others.

The other option of going over there without the bracelet was also a no-go. It only meant that Tom would use her to get inside the vault to retrieve the bracelet. Therefore she would be endangering, once again, everyone who was inside of it. No, if she wanted to have even the slightest chance of Riddle not noticing the powers of the bracelet had been altered, then he had to obtain it in the heat of the moment. He had to use it on impulse. It's why she'd Apparated away from Vishna to another position in the mountain in the hopes of luring Tom over there. If there was a battle going on all around him, it would prohibit him from examining the bracelet thoroughly before using it. It was a brilliant plan, even if she said so herself. There was only one problem with her previously magnificent idea at the moment.

The bastard wasn't taking the bait.

Clenching her fists, she narrowed her eyes in annoyance. She could sense him very clearly and he still had not Apparated inside the mountain. Hermione growled in frustration. He was probably sitting on his no good arse the entire time, while she was busy trying to stay alive … Her heart flew in her throat when she saw a shadow fly on the opposite wall.

'_Sectumsempra!'_

The vampire she struck down flew through the corridor, crashing into his mate. Hermione didn't wait to see if they stayed down. She picked the left passageway and started running, not liking how she was beginning to run into more and more of them by the minute. Another corner taken and she bounced into someone. They both tumbled over, and while falling, Hermione slashed her knife into the body that landed on top of her. His blade scratched her arm. Without looking, she jabbed her knife sideways. A dying rattle exited the vampire's throat before he stopped moving. Pulling the knife out of there and blasting the body away with her wand, she flung to her feet.

'Episkey!' she cast at the wound on her arm, running away fast.

Noticing she was heading towards the centre again, she halted at a crossing and doubted. Left or right?

Going straight forward was out of the question, so she picked right. It would be the biggest mistake she made that evening. Well, that _and_ taking the staircase down on her left after that.

She was halfway down the steps when Prince Vishna appeared into view on the lower landing. He had his back turned towards the staircase Hermione was on and was looking left and right with a large blade in his hands for possible adversaries. Hermione halted in shock. Her heart skipped a beat and her breathing hitched. Crap! Slowly, she backed away; her wand raised and knife at the ready.

_Don't see me; don't see me; don't see me_, she repeated mentally, as if it would help.

Footsteps sounded above her. Turning her head in terror, she cursed her luck or lack thereof. At the top of the staircase stood Prince Vlad, staring straight at her with a positively gloating and hungry expression on his face.

_I am so dead._

Something inside her body thrummed, but she didn't have time to stand still by the odd vibration. Hermione tried to spin on the spot, realising that anywhere but here would be preferable. Her Apparition attempt got foiled. Vishna stood in front of her before she even had the time to complete one tenth of an Apparition spin. She screamed when her wand was yanked out of her hands. It clattered down the stairs, a clear signal of her defeat. Hermione was certain she was done for when he pulled her by the hair and went for her neck. But he froze in his motion towards her before his knees buckled, and he tumbled down the stairs with a large blade stuck in his skull, dragging Hermione with him. Keeping her muscles loose and hoping she wouldn't break anything, she waited till she reached a full stop on top of Vishna's lifeless body. The bracelet fell from her pocket and rolled away in the corridor. Desperate, she followed it with her eyes. She couldn't lose it.

It bounced into the wall right next to her wand. Relieved she spotted both, she scrambled to her feet hurriedly. Two hands grabbed a hold of her from behind and yanked her against his body. Before she even had the time to move a muscle, Vlad's teeth sank into her neck. She knew it was over, for she could no longer move thanks to the paralysing agent in the vampire's saliva.

'_Avada Kedavra!_'

Everything in her eyesight turned green for a moment when Vlad got blasted into the wall, causing Hermione to tumble down once more. From the corner of her eye, she saw Tom Riddle standing a few feet away in the passageway, his face set in a furious scowl. Her eyes darted around, waiting for her muscles to start functioning again. Where was her bloody wand now? Her head snapped up when she spotted it again. She reached for it …

'_Accio!_' Tom cast lazily.

Her wand plus the bracelet flew through the air straight into his waiting hands. Hermione rolled over on her back and scrambled backwards on her behind, frightened. _Please, please, please, don't let him notice_, was all she could think.

Tom didn't even look at the bracelet. It took him a measly three steps to tower above her.

'Don't move,' he ordered warningly, his wand pointing straight at her.

Hermione froze in her semi-lying position on the ground. Leaning on her elbows, she waited while Tom cast a Healing Charm on her neck. He parted the two snakes, not removing his eyes of her for a moment, and tossed her the one she wanted to get without a moment of consideration. Hermione didn't dare to move and pick it up. She was too worried to come of as eager, too worried he would notice her behaviour was odd, so she glared at the bracelet in her lap. Tom had already clasped the other one around his wrist.

_Oh Godric, I can't believe this is going to work_, Hermione thought, holding her breath.

Tom looked down at her unmoving figure. It caused the corner of his mouth to curve upwards in a vicious smile. 'You know what to do with that bracelet, Hermione, or do you require assistance?' he taunted.

The smile was more unnerving than the threatening undertone in his speech. Hermione sat up slowly, moving her hand towards the bracelet as if she was reluctant to pick it up. She didn't have to pretend to be scared, because she truly was. If he noticed, she would be in a whole lot of unimaginable trouble. Her hand was trembling relentlessly and she kept her eyes lowered just in case. Her breath still stuck in her throat, she clasped the commanding bracelet around her wrist. A very evil, triumphant smirk formed on her face as she looked up and witnessed Tom's eyes flashing red.

'Bummer,' he merely said.

Hermione snickered, thinking he'd finally noticed the switch she'd made. Only, to her surprise, his legs caved and he suddenly tumbled towards her. She caught his limb body into her arms, causing her eyes to fall automatically on the knife stuck in his back, perfectly positioned into his heart. It had a beautifully decorated ruby rose on its heft.

'No,' she uttered, shocked.

In her peripheral vision, the outline of her daughter stood frozen to the ground a couple of feet away. Disbelief about this dreadful situation flew through Hermione as her eyes flickered back and forth between Tom and Rose. The knife couldn't have been thrown more accurate and there wasn't a single thing she could do anymore. Even with a wand in hand, she wouldn't be able to cast fast enough to undo the damage before brain death would set in. Rose had just killed her absent biological father. The creepy resemblance erected goosebumps all over her skin.

'Her-Hermione?' Tom stuttered against her clothes, frightened.

'I got you. I got you,' Hermione said, horrified, turning him around in her arms carefully.

For a moment their eyes met, then, his went empty: devoid of all life. Hermione pulled his body against hers and screamed her lungs out in terror. It felt like she was being ripped apart at the core of her being, like a part of herself was dying.

'Mum!' Rose yelled fearfully, running towards her. 'MUM!' she added more forcefully.

Hermione's head snapped up at the same time Rose's hands shook her. The corridor they were in was disappearing. Bricks flew around everywhere. A shockwave was approaching them. Unceremoniously, Hermione dropped Tom and started searching his pockets for her wand. She retrieved it quickly, grabbed a firm hold of Rose as she got to her feet, and tried to Disapparate.

To no avail.

She swirled around, looking for another way out. Alas, not a single direction seemed unaffected. They were surrounded by whatever the hell it was. Hermione's eyes widened. She had never seen anything quite like it. She flashed her wand around and raised one of Godric's wards, hoping it would hold.

'I'm scared,' Rose squeaked against her stomach.

'It's alright, dear. I got you,' Hermione said reassuringly.

She held her daughter close when the wave trashed her ward and them apart. It was almost as if they'd never been there in the first place.

xXxXx

'They're doing great. Angelina is somewhere around here. Mmm … I don't see her now. As for Fred … he gets so big so fast. And he is really smart too. The other day I got an owl from Professor McGonagall stating that Fred had just broken the detention record we set in our junior, less respectable years. Twenty-five times before the Christmas break,' George stated proudly, swirling the utterly surprised Hermione around the dance floor.

Her jaw dropped. Confused, Hermione stared into the twins' eyes who weren't supposed to be so alive and sparkling. George laughed, thinking Hermione was shocked at the amount of detention his son had succeeded in getting, and continued his story.

'So I sent him this Howler: Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes Style, naturally. Although I don't think McGonagall was pleased about it. I believe she thinks I am stirring the boy up.'

'Ridiculous,' Hermione repeated in a daze, remembering her reaction the first time she'd had this conversation.

'Yeah,' said George, beaming at her, 'I don't know where she comes up with those silly ideas.'

While he chuckled, Hermione looked around the dance floor disorientated. What the bloody hell happened? How did she get here?

George continued chatting amicably, not noticing Hermione's overly emotional state when she saw Viktor winking towards her mischievously as he was talking with Kingsley Shacklebolt. They were all alive! It had not happened yet. Every one of them was still alive.

Oh boy, every one of them, including …

'You don't mind if I cut in, do you?' the familiar voice drawled.

In a blink of an eye, Hermione drew her wand. 'As a matter of fact _I_ do,' she hissed, pressing the tip into Tom Riddle's throat.

'No need to get overly excited to see me, Granger,' Tom said, smirking, holding his hands up in the air theatrically. 'I just thought to collect on your promise to dance with me tonight.'

'Sure, that is _all_ you're planning,' Hermione responded sarcastically, stepping closer to retrieve Tom's wand.

'You know, Hermione,' he whispered deviously in her ear, while she had her hand in his pocket, 'it's more prudent to get a room. Other people may take offence to this obvious display of affection. You are, after all, a married woman.'

'Funny Riddle,' she snapped, 'but you're not fooling me for a minute.'

Ron and his latest girlfriend halted their twirl right next to them, causing George to look extremely alarmed that said girl, who he previously had deemed to be annoying, stood so close to him.

'What is going on?' Ron asked curiously, glaring at Riddle before his eyes darted to Hermione.

She hadn't lowered her wand an inch and taken a step back after she'd nicked Tom's wand.

'He is planning to blow the building and kill everyone,' Hermione responded, not averting her eyes from Tom for even a second.

'I am what?' Tom asked, dumbfounded. He snorted, entertained by her suggestion.

Briefly, Hermione's eyes gleamed red from the emotions his reaction stirred inside of her. She really wanted to curse his lying arse into oblivion. She really, _really_ wanted to. Since her gaze was focused on him, Tom was the only one of the group who noticed her little eye issue and it merely widened his grin.

Meanwhile, Ron flipped a box resembling a Muggle doorbell out of his pocket and pressed the button. George, who had no idea what was happening, raised his eyebrows and looked from Hermione to Tom to Ron in confusion, making sure not to make eye contact with the "Babblebox" he'd met earlier. Although, Ron's girlfriend was unusually silent now, he wasn't risking it. He was about to open his mouth and inquire what was going on when Harry and Ginny arrived at the same time as one hell of an enthusiastic reporter.

'Are you being harassed by candidate Granger, Mr. Riddle?' Rita Skeeter asked, excited, practically bouncing on her feet with joy at the story she could spin from this event.

Tom glared sideways in a condescending manner to the reporter. Before he had a chance to open his mouth, Ginny grabbed Rita Skeeter by her collar and dragged her away.

Rita did not go quietly.

'This is another clear example of the kind of oppression of the free press that candidate Granger supports!' she yelled, before the outer door closed behind the two witches.

A bright flash made the building tremble on its feet as the hospital wards shredded to dust, followed quickly by multiple Apparition cracks. Shirley Moran, the Head of the Unspeakables, Apparated right beside Ron, while several of her employees were arriving at strategic positions in the room. Everything happened in a whirlwind so fast.

'Mr. Weasley?' Moran asked shortly.

Silently, Ron nodded towards Riddle. Moran snapped her fingers, and swiftly, both Tom and Hermione were taken away by several Unspeakables.

'Shirley, what is going on?' Kingsley's deep voice asked. 'Why has your office torn down the wards of this hospital?'

'Minister Shacklebolt, you need to leave with these men immediately. Adrian, Terry,' she ordered and signalled with her head to the two men on her right.

Kingsley never had the chance to say anything in response, because Terry Boot and Adrian Walden had already grabbed his arms and Disapparated. Viktor Krum who stood beside the minister was monitoring the fast exchange astonished. He shared a brief moment of confusion with Harry. All around them people were being removed from the premises forcefully.

'Where have you taken my wife?' Viktor asked Moran.

'That is classified information. Go home, Mr. Krum,' Moran ordered, and she nodded to the Unspeakable behind Viktor.

'Now, wait a second,' Viktor objected. The rest of his objections were muffled by the Disapparition crack that followed.

Harry shook his head in disbelief. 'You can't do this, Shirley. You have no right to remove people against their will like this.'

'Mr. Potter, since you are the Head of the Auror Office, I need to ask you to vacate this building immediately and report to your station at the Ministry.'

'Shirley, I demand to know what is going on. You are overstepping every boundary of your department here,' Harry said, and he felt he was beginning to get angry.

'I have declared this a Priority One situation. Therefore my office has jurisdiction at the moment: a jurisdiction that supersedes yours. You will leave this instance or my men will escort you …' –she gestured behind her– 'to a secure location.'

Two bulky men approached Harry at Moran's call. He waved them away, exasperated. 'No need, I can get there on my own, thank you very much,' he said. 'My wife?'

'I'll see to it that Mrs. Potter is brought home safely and gets informed of your whereabouts,' Moran replied shortly.

'You're making a huge blunder here, Shirley,' Harry said, concerned. With a crack, he Disapparated, determined to sort out this mess as soon as possible.


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's note: **I thank you all for reading and reviewing: ArtemisMoon87, CuriosityKilledKat, patie, vampirelover2009, ilovesiriusorionblack, tanzainy, Slytherin Sith, Sailor2Moon, Rosiline, Lilipop10122, Morbid DramaQueen10, Alrauna, ilovenat1995, abbelmus, blindfaithoperadiva, Rena Katsueki, Anja, Summer Leah, BlueSkyHeaven, shinobinaraku, IceAgeSurvivor123, Merih, liv, sarahr85, bene elim.

Liv: Thanks. Don't we all want more Tom. Sighs, drools, swoons. ;-) You'll see if Rose figures out who her biological father is.

Anja: She can't? Oh… well, she didn't, she tried though … LOL

Slytherin Sith: Yep, I just HAD to. *sniggers wickedly* They go back in time. ;-) And I hope this was fast enough. Thanks for the nice compliments.

* * *

**Masters of Manipulation: Part Two**

**Chapter 11**

'Thank you,' Hermione said to the blond wizard Unspeakable who handed her a cup of coffee. 'You have no idea how much I could use one.'

He smiled at her before returning to his post next to the door. They were the only two in the office at the moment – the atmosphere between them was pleasantly silent. Hermione calmly looked around to check out the place she was in, taking a sip of the hot beverage. On the wood desk in front of her stood a sign, stating: E.B.S. Moran along with a ridiculously long list of Wizarding titles and two Muggle ones to her surprise.

So, this was the Unspeakable Department's Head Office. Kind of boring. She had expected something a bit more exotic than this standard governmental issued furniture along with the even more standard huge stack of paperwork. She smirked, looking at Moran's inbox that filled further and further with every passing second. The metal rack was overflowing to the degree that a huge pile formed on the floor beneath it as well. Hermione wondered how on earth anyone could possibly read all that and still have time to eat, sleep, go to the loo, and have some chance of doing one's actual job. If that had been her inbox, she would have been tempted to burn it to a crisp and pretend she never saw any of it.

Sighing, she wished an overflowing inbox was the type of problem she had to deal with, but noooo, fate wasn't that kind. It stuck her with the more complicated type. The type you can summarise in three little words: Tom Marvolo Riddle. Making a face in a combination of disgust and annoyance at fate, she finished her coffee and placed the empty cup on the desk in front of her. The coffee had briefly alleviated her pounding headache somewhat, only not enough to be comfortable, making the pain return in full force. She closed her eyes and massaged her temples, trying to get some semblance of relief.

Still, she'd take the pounding headache over her situation at Mount Krakatou any day. Her stomach clenched when she recalled how Tom had died in her arms. The idea of him not being around anymore had never before struck her as a viable option and she didn't like how much it affected her – how horrified, desperate, painful, and empty she'd felt at the thought of losing him. Even right now, knowing the type of things he was capable of, knowing how much of an utter fool he insisted on staying, knowing how much of an unbelievable prick he could be, she still loved him.

Anger rose inside of her. It was really stupid of her, insane. The man was a cold-blooded murderer. Why couldn't she just let go of him? Why did she keep on granting him this much influence over her? She really, **really** needed to let go. Just let go. He was not good for her.

_Not true, _a little voice in the back of her mind disagreed. _You love him, because he's just the right man for you and you know it._

Scowling at her subconscious, she reprimanded herself firmly. She knew nothing of the kind and her love was just a stupid emotion she had to squash into nonexistent. He didn't deserve it.

_True, but maybe he needs it._

Her heart stung at the thought, because **she** had been the one to leave.

No! No, no, no. She didn't give a damn about what Tom Riddle may or may not need. He was an adult. He should bloody well take care of himself. She had other responsibilities, more important ones: Rose.

_Sure, you don't care about him at all, _her inner voice mocked. _People we don't give a damn about our always continuously on our minds._

'Oh shut up,' she said out loud, shaking her head. 'Just shut up.'

The wizard at the door raised his eyebrows. A hint of a smile became visible on his face.

'Sorry,' Hermione said, realising she'd said that last bit out loud and wasn't alone in the room. She turned to him. 'I was talking to myself. I didn't mean you.'

'That much was obvious,' the wizard replied, looking expectantly at her to continue.

An awkward silence rose between them. Hermione didn't feel like explaining and sighed. As a diversion tactic, she leaned forward in her chair to pick up her cup, only to find she already drank all her coffee.

'Can I get you some more?'

'If it's not too much trouble, yes please.'

Summoning her cup, the Unspeakable left the office, and she was alone with her thoughts again. Not wanting to go back to musing about a certain power-hungry, immortality-obsessed individual, she rose to her feet and started pacing the office. Anything to keep her mind off of him. Merlin, he got her stuck at the Department of Mysteries for crying out loud. How had she got into this mess?

Somehow, she'd travelled back in time without any idea how. There had been no flash of silver lighting and none of the other familiar bodily sensations that occurred when travelling with Slytherin's book were present. Instead, there had been that unusual shockwave, which she couldn't Apparate through, and _that_ seemed to have wiped out everything that had happened. She touched her neck, which no longer had any indication of being just healed from a vampire bite. All the bruises on her body were gone. The bracelet was absent from her wrist. The only thing that had stayed with her was that obnoxious headache. Frustrated, she ran her hands through her hair. If there was one thing she hated, it had to be: not knowing all the answers.

Well, at least this time around, she had been able to prevent the disaster from occurring. Everyone was still alright and Riddle had been taken into custody. It had gone incredibly fast. One minute she was standing on the dance floor with her wand drawn, and the next, she and Tom were transported to the Department of Mysteries. He'd been gazing at her intensely all the way to the holding cell they'd put him in. The blank, calm, and quiet look on his face still unnerved her greatly. She'd seen that expression before and it never foreboded anything good. Tom Riddle was up to something.

She growled.

Of course, Lord Voldemort was up to something. He had been planning to blow up a hospital, she knew that much.

However, doubt was beginning to form in her mind. This was all just a bit too convenient. He died, and the next minute, she was back in St. Mungo's.

He had died.

Slowly, she sank into the chair again. Tom Marvolo Riddle had died.

Hermione tapped with her fingers on the armrest of the chair, contemplating on something she clearly remembered. Something, that happened many years ago.

'_What are you doing? This isn't the time to hang around. We need to get out of here,' Hermione hissed, flipping her wand to blow away another rock that attacked them. More and more of them made it through her ward intact._

'_After all the trouble I went through, I'm not leaving until I got it, Granger,' Tom snarled, whipping his wand through the air as he further lowered himself upside down in a fissure in the tomb's floor. _

_She shook her head in disbelief over so much stupidity. 'It will be very hard to become immortal if you die trying,' she sneered. 'And Godric's wards aren't holding.' _

'_Aha! Got it!' Tom shouted triumphantly, levitating himself up with a smug expression on his face, holding Bastet's Sistrum Rattle in his fist. _

'_Oh, get over yourself,' she said, turning away from him annoyed while blasting another rock that made it through her barrier to smithereens. _

_Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. 'After I am immortal, dearest,' Tom whispered in her ear, and he started kissing her neckline. _

'_Are you crazy? Can we get out of here now? In case you haven't noticed, we're under attack!'_

'After I am immortal …' and he died before completing the set.

Legend clearly stated that only the one who owned the entire set would be able to find and use the Ankh of Isis. You needed all six items before you could obtain the seventh one. Number seven: of course the Ankh would be item number seven. From an Arithmancy point of view, it couldn't be any other number. Tom and his stupid immortality fetish, Hermione rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

Still, if he started using time as a weapon to obtain them … And Sakhmet's Cane was a menace on its own. Oh, who was she kidding? All those items were dangerous and problematic in his hands. But how could he be able to alter time after he died? Those books were destroyed. It was impossible. Besides … she'd travelled differently, without any book whatsoever. Maybe it hadn't been Tom's doing? It surely was weird. She had to warn Vishna though. He needed to hide Wadjet's Bracelet elsewhere. If there was one thing she learned from this experience, it was that the vault was not secure enough to hold Riddle out.

'Mrs. Granger?'

Hermione looked up from her thoughts when the short, plump woman entered her office.

'I don't believe we were properly introduced to each other yet.' She held out her hand. 'I'm Shirley Moran, Head of the Unspeakable Office.' They shook hands. Shirley Moran turned and gestured behind her. 'I believe you already know Mr. Weasley here.'

Hermione smiled to Ron, who also came in.

'You're an Unspeakable?' she asked Ron, unable to suppress the surprise completely from her voice.

'Well, now that my cover is completely blown, who knows …?' Ron said, shrugging humorously.

Moran coughed. 'Can the carrier advice talk wait till later Weasley?'

Ron held out his hand in an apologetic gesture and sat down in the chair beside Hermione.

'Is everybody alright? Viktor?' she asked, her eyes darting between Moran and Ron.

'We have been able to evacuate the entire hospital, and your husband has been send home,' Moran replied, sitting down behind her desk. With a casual flick of her wand, her inbox sorted itself into different stacks. The shortest pile landed on her desk. Other letters flew into different drawers and several went straight back in her outbox. A rather large pile merely said, 'poof' and vanished in a cloud of smoke. Moran didn't pay attention to her mail, she focused on Hermione. 'Currently, I have teams in the process of examining the hospital to determine how Riddle was planning to blow it up. However, right now, I'd like to hear from you how you knew.'

Loud, angry voices sounded from the corridor.

'You can't go in there.'

'Watch me!' a familiar voice said.

Some odd noises followed, making Hermione and Ron smile at each other knowingly while Shirley sighed. Then, the door flew open anyway, and Harry swirled in followed quickly by the blond wizard who had gone out to get Hermione her coffee and was unable to prevent Harry from entering. 'I'm sorry, Miss Moran, but he …'

Annoyed, Shirley held up her hand, halting the Unspeakable's apologies. He walked over to Hermione and handed her a fresh cup of coffee. 'Thank you,' she said, while Ron glanced at it enviously.

'This is not an Auror matter, Mr. Potter,' Shirley said coldly.

'Eh, Evan, where is mine?' Ron whispered.

'Lost your hands?' the blond whispered back, taking his post by the door again.

'It will become one, Shirley,' Harry responded icily, 'when your twenty-four hours are over. And I'm not in the mood to clean up your mess blindly.' He walked over to the window and leaned down against the sill, crossing his arms.

Finishing her second cup quickly, Hermione smirked upon witnessing Harry's posture. _Good luck getting rid of Harry when he is this determined_.

'I can have them forcefully remove you from this office, Harry,' Shirley said, folding her hands on the desk in front of her decisively. Apparently, she was thinking the same thing.

'I will strongly advice against taking that approach,' Harry said warningly. 'I can make quite a lot of noise in case you've forgotten. I doubt you will get twenty-four hours if **I** start making it.' He smiled sweetly.

Holding their breaths when the tension in the room skyrocketed, Hermione and Ron shared a glance of understanding, while the two Department Heads continued their pissing contest by seeing who could phoney "outsmile" the other.

'Fine,' Shirley snapped, choosing the lesser of two evils. 'You can stay in an observer's capacity, but no interference or I _will_ have you removed.'

'Don't worry, I am more than happy _not_ to have my office share the responsibility of trespassing on the rights of British citizens,' Harry said calmly.

Shirley ignored his remark and looked back at Hermione. 'Could you tell us …?'

'I'll have you all fired!' Draco thundered outside the room. 'Fired! Get your hands off of me. My barrister will hear all about this blatant disrespect that has been shown to a distinct member of the Malfoy family. We have quite a lot of influence in the Wizengamot. And I will personally–'

A door slammed shut in the distance, turning everything blissfully quiet. Ron snorted the word Ferretboy underneath his breath.

'Like I said,' Harry said, breaking the silence and raising his palms in the air to show this was definitely not the way he would have approached matters and he wasn't planning to take responsibility for it. 'This is your little mess.'

Miss Moran eyed Harry briefly, before turning to Unspeakable Evan. 'Can you step outside, Mr. Donahue, and raise the Sound-Deadening Shields around this room? I don't want any more disturbances. Is that clear?'

'Yes, Ma'am.'

As Evan Donahue left the office, Shirley returning her attention to Hermione. 'Now that we are no longer being disturbed, could you tell us how you knew Mr. Riddle was planning to blow up the hospital?'

Hermione frowned for a moment, not sure how to explain things without revealing the whole "I-Am-Bonded-And-Travelled-Through-Time-With-Tom-Riddle-Who-Is-Lord-Voldemort" situation.

'She knows everything,' Ron said, realising what caused the delay.

'Everything?' asked Hermione, not happy about that at all.

'Yes,' he replied.

'Just how many people in the Ministry know about this?' she asked worriedly, thinking about the ticking timebomb information such as this was when you were trying to run for office. Angela Krum would definitely have a nervous breakdown if she knew.

'The Minister as well as the Auror and Unspeakable Department's Heads are the only ones who are privileged to the information,' Harry replied. 'Kingsley and I made sure that they,' –he glanced to Shirley– 'are not at liberty to share said information with anyone else.'

'Mmm …' Hermione mused, not liking the blank expression on Moran's face at all. It told her absolutely nothing. She had to try and find out just how widespread this information really went at a later opportunity. She knew some people she could put on that job. 'Well … since you know about me and Tom,' Hermione started.

Not once did anyone in the room interrupt her story. She could talk at her pace and went through the main events of everything that had happened swiftly.

'… All of the sudden, I found myself back in St. Mungo's dancing with George, and when Riddle showed up, I … well, you know the rest,' she ended, looking around the room for support.

'I see,' Moran said quietly, leaning back in her chair frowning.

'He's been changing time again,' Ron muttered. 'It figures.'

Uncertain, Hermione looked at Harry and bit her lip. 'He isn't planning to do it this time, is he? Blow up the hospital, I mean.'

Harry shrugged.

'Oh, crap. I screwed up everything,' Hermione said, scratching her neck uncomfortably.

'This isn't your fault, Hermione,' Harry said reassuringly. 'Your reaction was quite logical considering the circumstances you just came from. Others shouldn't have overreacted and pressed on the panic button immediately. You,' –he glared to Ron– 'should have listened to her story first.'

'Eh!' Ron objected, standing up abruptly to face his friend head on. He was obviously furious that Harry was blaming him for this. 'There was no time to chat first. She said he was planning to blow up St. Mungo's. We _had_ to get all those people to safety.'

'You think Riddle will be stupid enough to blow up a building when he is still standing in it?' Harry countered lazily.

'Oh, so now you're calling me stupid?' Ron replied with reddened ears, slapping himself in the chest. 'I'm not allowed to make a mistake in the heat of the moment? No, us common folks aren't. But if the almighty Harry Potter decides to save the life of the vilest wizard that ever lived, we all–'

'Stop it!' Hermione yelled, jumping out of her chair. 'Stop fighting over him! We already did that with the locket, remember?'

The room turned painfully silent. Ron shuffled on his feet, looking at the floor embarrassed, while Harry glanced at Hermione apologetically. She was holding her forehead with her hand, pacing the room in clear agitation. Moran was watching the interactions between them keenly.

'Sorry mate,' Ron said suddenly.

'Yeah, me too, I shouldn't have implied … you know,' Harry replied, having the good sense not to voice it out loud again.

'Oh, it's fine. I can be …'

'Are you alright, Mrs. Granger?' Moran interrupted sharply, looking at Hermione with a frown.

Concerned, Harry and Ron looked at their friend. She stopped pacing and sighed, still clutching to her head.

'No, I am not fine,' Hermione said thoughtfully. 'I have a dreadful headache.'

'I can get you some Painkiller Potion,' Moran offered.

Hermione looked at the kind, concerned face the woman sent her. Warning signs began flashing in her mind. She definitely wasn't drinking any potions this lady offered her. Oh shoot, she drank that coffee. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Well, no harm done in hindsight, it had been coffee. But she really needed to watch out. How could she have been so careless? She usually wasn't. It was because she'd been awake for too long now. Yep, that had to be it.

'No, Painkiller Potions never work on my headaches,' she lied.

'Ouch. That must be inconvenient.'

'Yes, it is. I think my headache is caused by the long time I have been up and about now. I already had it before, and it's been days now.' She yawned demonstratively.

'I'll have someone escort you home. I trust you're not planning to leave the country in case we have further questions?'

Hermione snorted. She was in the midst of an election campaign. Leaving the country right now would make Angela Krum very unhappy.

'Good, I'll be right back,' Moran said, walking out the door.

'If you want, I can get you a Painkiller Potion?' Ron asked softly.

Hermione smiled, tired. He obviously saw through her reasoning for not accepting anything from his boss. 'No, I just want to go home and sleep for a very long time. Don't you two remember anything from that other time? You didn't die in it.'

'Nope,' Ron answered.

Harry sighed, staying silent.

'Then, why do I remember stuff? It defies all temporal logic and theories. According to Salazar Slytherin, it simply is not possible. I had no book to protect me from temporal incursions and–'

She stopped speaking when Moran came back in with the blond wizard. 'Mr. Donahue will show you the way out, Mrs. Granger.'

'Thank you,' Hermione replied, relieved. 'I'll talk to you later, Harry?'

'Sounds like a plan.'

Hermione moved to Donahue who held out his hand when the thought occurred to her, and she froze. Turning around worried, she asked, 'What about Tom?'

'That is not your concern. I'll handle this situation, Mrs. Granger. Threats to this nation are after all my responsibility,' Moran responded immediately. 'You should get some rest.'

Hermione hesitated for a second, her mind reeling. Doubtfully, she glanced to Harry. He didn't say anything, but their eye contact reassured her. Harry wouldn't allow this to escalade further. She didn't need to stay. Besides, she wasn't much use to anyone with her head feeling as if someone tried to crack her skull with a sledgehammer. She took Donahue's outstretched hand. A soft Apparition crack later made the three people remaining in the room look at each other silently.

'Well,' Moran said, 'that was an interesting story.'

She pointed her wand at her temple, drawing a silvery substance from it. It took the shape of a fox and sped away. Not long after that a silver cat entered and started speaking.

'Argyle and Hughes are still questioning Riddle, but they are not getting anywhere. He's playing ignorant to anything they throw at him,' the cat Patronus said before fading away.

'Wow, wasn't expecting that,' Harry mocked, rolling his eyes.

'Mr. Weasley,' Moran said, ignoring Harry. 'Why don't you fetch Mr. Riddle? I have a few questions I'd like to get answered.'

'With pleasure,' Ron said, smirking.

The second he was gone, Harry started arguing with Moran. 'This has gone far enough, Shirley. We both know your search of that hospital will turn up empty.'

'Do we now?' Shirley stated innocently.

Harry sighed tiresomely.

'Harry, as long as I don't get the all clear sign from my teams at the scene, I'll continue to treat this as a priority one situation and that gives me every right to use any means at my disposal to get to the bottom of this terrorist threat to our community. It's one of the liberties which was placed deliberately in the Unspeakables charter right after the Fudge debacle,' Shirley said calmly, knowing full well she had told her agents in the field not to interrupt her if they didn't find any evidence.

'And let me guess, you have a policy of non-disturbance until your twenty-four hours are over.'

Moran sent him a warning look. 'I'm giving you a lot of leeway, Harry, by allowing you to remain present when I don't have to. I strongly suggest you do not interfere since this situation, though unfortunate in many ways, does give me the opportunity–'

'–to question Riddle?' Harry finished her sentence. 'Good luck.'

There was a knock on the door.

'Not a peep from you, Harry. Enter,' she called out.

Harry moved back to the windowsill. However, his attempt to physically distance himself from the situation at hand got punctured the minute Tom Riddle entered.

'Harry,' –Tom nodded politely– 'not the person I was expecting to see here.'

'Mr. Potter's presence is in an observatory capacity as a personal favour of mine,' Shirley answered before Harry could speak up. She walked to Tom with a friendly, open expression on her face. 'I'm Shirley Moran, Head of the Department of Mysteries,' she added sweetly, holding out her hand.

Tom accepted it with a charming smile. 'Nice to meet you, Ms. Moran. Tom Riddle,' he added with another nod of his head, 'as you probably know already.'

'Naturally, naturally, how could I not? You helped all those poor children by donating a wing to St. Mungo's and giving our Healers free access to your research company's labs. It's very impressive. My little cousin Diane survived Spattergroit thanks to you.' An expression of sincere gratitude ran over Moran's face.

'Well,' Tom corrected humbly, 'that was Hannah Longbottom's work.'

'But Healer Longbottom never would have been able to find a cure if she hadn't had access to such modern equipment. No, we all know how helpful **you**'ve been. And I sincerely hope you can help clear up this dreadful situation, too, Mr. Riddle. It is such a tragedy that we had to disturb people's lives over this nonsense. Crazy, don't you think? But naturally, protocols must be followed; papers have to be filled.' She shook her head. 'You understand what it is like, don't you? As a small part of the government, we have to obey by the rules. But I am sure we can make this all go away for such an upstanding citizen as …'

Harry tuned out of the meaningless sentences Moran was feeding Riddle. He had a hard time keeping his composure at her act of the stupid, cheerful bureaucrat. He had to admit she was pretty damn good at it. You had to know her to see through it. There were many civil servants who would have acted like that for real. Still, he couldn't help but wonder if Riddle would fall for it. Somehow he doubted it.

'I trust you don't mind to answer a few questions?' Shirley asked, charming.

'Anything to help,' Tom replied blankly.

'Terrific,' Shirley replied, clapping her hands together enthusiastically. 'But where are my manners? Have a seat. Can I get you anything, Tom? It's okay if I call you Tom I hope.' Not giving him the chance to reply, she quickly added, 'We have coffee, or do you prefer tea, _Tom_?'

'No, thanks … _Shirley_. I have tasted the dreadful draught they serve here before,' Tom said, smiling. He sat down askew in the nearest chair, crossing one leg over the other and draping one arm over the wooden back casually.

'Oh yes, I remember. You helped out the Auror Department a couple of times, didn't you?' Shirley eyed happily from Tom to Harry.

'Whenever I could,' Tom replied, smiling to Harry.

'I personally find that the tea here is so-so, but the coffee is quite dreadful, isn't it? I always take a thermos with me from home,' Shirley shared. She looked in a drawer and clicked her tongue disappointed. 'I am afraid I don't have one with me at the moment. I was enjoying a lovely movie before I got summoned.' She turned around and sat down on the chair next to her desk instead of the one behind it, creating a more intimate, personal and comfortable distance. 'Still, after a whole day's work, there is nothing like a fresh cup of it. I am always glad when I can go home and get one,' she added, leaning forward in a conspirator's manner like she was sharing a deep dark secret with Tom.

'Then, I'm deeply sorry you got dragged away from your coffee tonight,' Tom said politely.

Moran shrugged helplessly. 'I see it all as just a formality. Together, we will have this cleared up in no time if you'll help us.'

'I'm most delighted to assist you.'

'Wonderful, wonderful. Can you tell us what you remember of this evening?'

'Well, I was on the dance floor asking Hermi-, I mean, Mrs. Granger to dance when she pulled a wand on me. After which I was brought here by your men and I am still waiting for an explanation to that fact.'

'Why, I was hoping you could help clear up the story Mrs. Granger told us. You say she threatened you? Do you have any idea as to what her reasons where?'

'Why don't you ask her? Or better yet, bring her here as well, then, we can sort this all out together in no time,' Tom suggested.

'Oh, I am afraid that is not possible, Tom. You know … legal issues and all,' Moran stated, leaning forward seriously. 'We have to hear every person apart; otherwise the legal department will go apeshit. They feel very strongly about keeping eyewitnesses from influencing one another.'

'Of course,' Tom said understandingly, 'but I am afraid I'm a lousy eyewitness. I have absolutely no idea why Mrs. Granger pulled a wand on me.'

'Really, Tom?' Shirley said disbelievingly.

'Really,' Tom replied, a hint of annoyance creeping in his voice.

'She didn't give you a reason?'

'She said something, but I didn't quite get it with all the loud music,' Tom answered dismissively, folding his arms over each other. 'I am sure she can tell you exactly what she said.'

'Loud music can be a drag sometimes,' Moran replied, ignoring the latter statement.

'A drag, helpful …' Tom suggested offhandedly. 'If this is all you want to know …?' He leaned forward to rise from his chair.

'According to Mrs. Granger, you were planning to destroy St. Mungo's hospital and everyone in it. Naturally, we had to investigate such a statement.'

'Naturally,' repeated Tom, leaning back in his chair with a sigh.

'No comment? No sincere outrage?' Shirley enquired. 'It's a rather dreadful accusation. If you want to press charges of slander, I would solely understand.'

Tom smiled knowingly. His fingers tapped on the armrest as his eyes glanced over Shirley thoughtfully. 'You're pretty damn good at this, Shirley. Do you want applause now?'

'Excuse me?'

'Such a wonderful act. Just how many have you fooled into a false sense of security around you with all that nonsensical chitchat?' he snarled.

'Mr. Weasley will you be so kind to escort Mr. Potter out?' Shirley said coldly. Her entire demeanour changed in a blink of an eye. 'You just made a huge error, Voldemort.'

Tom snorted. 'Ah, like I thought … all those Toms were a bit too much,' he sneered condescendingly. 'Well, aren't you going to enlighten me on my huge error, _Shirley_?' he taunted.

'There is no one who will come to your aid and this is about to become a most unpleasant experience for you.'

'Now, wait a second,' Harry objected, moving towards them.

'Mr. Weasley, now please,' Shirley added forcefully.

With a crack, Harry was pulled from the scene.

'No one will come to my aid?' Tom sneered. 'If Potter's reaction is any indication, I would get a move on if I were you. I doubt he's going to sit by and wait for your twenty-four hours to be over,' Tom advised, his eyes flashing red when she drew her wand. 'I'm giving you one chance to reconsider your actions, Mudblood.'

Shirley snorted. 'Gee, such original name-calling _and_ an opportunity!' she mock-exclaimed. 'How gracious of you.'

'It is,' Tom said, tilting his head. 'Because after you're done, mark my words … it will be my turn.'

'Oh really, and what are you going to do?' Shirley tutted. 'Complain to the Wizengamot and risk exposing your true identity to the world?' she snickered.

'You'll see,' Tom replied, smiling viciously.

xXxXx

Harry and Ron Apparated into the Auror Office. Furiously, Harry pulled his arm away.

'Sorry, but that was a direct order.'

'And you agreed with it, otherwise you wouldn't have followed it,' Harry hissed.

'How can you possibly defend that man?' Ron asked, dumbfounded. 'After what he did, _again!_'

'So **we're** going to resort to torture now? **We're** going to act like the Ministry did in his days of power? We don't even know for sure if he is going to act like Voldemort in this timeline,' Harry stated.

'Are you kidding me?'

'Things don't add up, Ron. He had no reason to alter time.'

'He died, or didn't you hear Hermione tell us that little detail? If I recall his obsessions correctly, that would have been reason enough for him to alter time.'

'And that part of Hermione's story is flawed,' Harry said quietly.

'What?' Ron snapped. 'You believe him over Hermione?'

'That is not what I am saying. I think Hermione believed that he died, but he couldn't have,' Harry said thoughtfully.

Ron just stared at him. 'You've gone mental,' he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. 'Surely, Hermione can distinguish between dead and alive.'

'For Merlin's sake, Ron, think! If he died, then explain to me how come Hermione was capable to check his vital signs. How come she was still breathing afterward?' Harry said impatiently.

'What are you babbling about?'

'The bond, Ron, the bond,' Harry explained, pacing up and down in his office. 'If one of them dies, so does the other.'

Ron's jaw dropped. 'That still applies?' he whispered, appalled. 'But I–I thought it was just that one time when you brought them back?'

'No, it's not that one time. Of course, it still applies. Magical bonds like that don't just vanish merely due to the passing of time.'

'But how could he have survived?'

'I don't know, but I do know that this Riddle may not know a damn thing about what he did in another timeline. There is a good chance his choices will be different.'

'Maybe,' Ron said in a tone of voice that clearly indicated how much he doubted that possibility. 'But he is still Voldemort; he is bound to be up to something. It's obvious Hermione believes so. And Ginny agrees with me, too. You are the only one unwilling to see the threat he poses.'

'Really, Ron, give me some credit, will you? Do you honestly think that I haven't kept an eye on Riddle's goings-on's? Do you really think that I would bring Tom Marvolo Riddle into this day and age, and go about my business like it doesn't concern me?' Harry said, insulted. 'Just because I don't share my preventive measures with the world doesn't mean I haven't taken them. I truly believe Tom is capable of not turning out in that manner again.' Harry paced to the door on those last words.

'Where are you going?' Ron asked, confused.

'To get Kingsley and stop this nonsense before it gets out of hand,' Harry said firmly on his way out the door.

He quickly made it to the nearby elevators. Just when the grills slid to, Ron slipped through them. Harry smiled at his friend. 'Changed your mind?'

'It was you,' Ron stated, looking at his friend like he had never seen him before. 'Hermione had no idea what was going on. She clearly didn't change time and if Riddle didn't have a reason …' he paused, taking a deep breath before saying what he'd deduced. 'You are the only option left.'

Harry remained silent.

'But I don't get how. You destroyed those books, didn't you? Please Harry, tell me those volumes aren't still out there for Riddle to find.'

'Those books aren't still out there,' Harry answered truthfully.

The grills slid open when the female voice called out the floor to the Minister's chambers. They walked the corridors in complete silence.

'I can see now why you became the true Master of Manipulation,' Ron said, leaning against Kingsley's secretary's desk.

Harry blinked but did not respond. He raised his hand to knock on the Minister's door.

'You're becoming just like Dumbledore.'

'Thanks,' Harry said happily, knocking.

'It was not a compliment.'

'I know, but it is how I take it.'

'Enter,' Kingsley called out.

xXxXx

Crack.

Donahue looked confused when they arrived in front of the gates to Hermione's house instead of inside as he'd planned.

'I have wards to prevent strangers from Apparating in uninvited,' Hermione explained upon seeing his face. 'They work similar to the ones in your department. Only previously authorised individuals can use Apparition to get in and out.'

'I see,' Donahue said, glancing to the boundaries of her estate curiously. 'I thought our department had a patent on those?'

Hermione smiled. 'No, the theory behind them is too old to still claim a patent these days.' She laughed. 'You may recall that the Hogwarts Headmistress also has that opportunity at Hogwarts. But thanks for taking me this far, I can make the rest of the trip on my own.'

Donahue obviously wasn't done asking questions, but Hermione was gone the next second.

Crack.

'Mummy!' Rose ran to her mother who just Apparated into the living room. With an agile jump, she landed in her mother's arms and hugged her senseless. 'You're home. You're home. You're home,' she repeated over and over again.

'Thank Merlin,' Viktor added from the bottom of his heart. 'That irritating Moran woman wouldn't tell me a thing and had some lackey of hers dump me at home. I was about to go to the ministry, only Rose came running downstairs in a panic. She had a terrible nightmare and wouldn't let go of me.' He patted Rose on her head. 'Fortunately, the Potters went back to sleep real quickly, so I sent Angela home. She looked like she could use the rest.'

Frowning, Hermione looked at the little girl in her arms who was holding very tightly to her neck. 'I'm so glad you're alright,' Hermione said and kissed Viktor on the cheek, relieved.

'Now you're the second person who looks at me like they are seeing a miracle,' Viktor said, bemused. 'It's not like I died or anything.'

Rose squealed at that, confirming Hermione's suspicions.

'I'll be right back, hon. We need to talk,' Hermione told Viktor matter-of-factly.

'You're damn right about that,' he muttered, while his wife left to bring Rose to bed.

A loud hissing noise greeted her when she opened the door to Rose's bedroom in order not to disturb the Potters sleeping in the guestroom. She also wanted some privacy for this conversation with Rose.

'Tyra!' Rose called out cheerfully and hissed something in Parseltongue to the snake. 'I forgot she was here, too. Can I keep her now, Mummy?'

'Rose, you remember what happened to us before, don't you?'

Rose bit her lip. Fearfully, she nodded.

'I remember too,' Hermione said reassuringly. 'You are not crazy.' She stroked Rose through her hair.

'But nobody else remembers, Mummy! James said I just had a nasty dream and so did Daddy.'

'You remember when we stood in that corridor and that strange wave headed towards us?' Hermione asked and waited for the affirmative responds before continuing. 'Well, that wave has sent us back in time, so none of it happened.'

'You can go back in time?' Rose asked, puzzled.

'Normally no, but sometimes, under specific circumstances, you can.'

'I don't understand.'

'Most grown wizards and witches don't understand it either, dear. Time travel is a very difficult subject. We'll talk about it again tomorrow morning when everybody else is away and we've both had some well-deserved rest. Right now, all you need to remember is that none of those bad things happened. Everyone is alright and alive, okay?'

Rose nodded with a slight hesitation.

'Are you alright with sleeping here alone tonight or do you want to sleep in Mummy and Daddy's bed?'

Rose frowned and looked to the King Cobra that lay coiled next to her bed. 'I am not alone. Tyra will protect me,' she replied, certain.

The snake let out a soft hiss as if in confirmation.

Hermione smiled and tucked her daughter in. 'If you change your mind, you can always come to me. Just make sure you close the door behind you. We don't want Tyra biting someone by mistake, do we?'

'I've told her that she's not allowed to bite people,' Rose replied.

'Good,' Hermione said, kissing her daughter on the forehead. 'Sleep tight, sweetie.'

'Mummy …' Rose hesitated before continuing, 'he wasn't a vampire that man who–'

'We'll talk about everything in the morning, dear,' Hermione interrupted. 'But just so you know, no more knife throwing or you're grounded for life, young lady.'

'I haven't got the knife, yet,' Rose muttered, slightly disappointed about that. 'Do you think Jürgen will still give it to me?' she asked hopefully.

Hermione shrugged. 'Maybe, it depends how time has unfolded here … But we'll talk about this in the morning. Nighty-night.'

'Don't let the bedbugs bite,' Rose added, yawning. She turned to the side, hissing something to Tyra, who immediately raised herself and slithered upon the bed.

Caringly, Hermione looked at her daughter and smiled at the sight of the humongous snake cradling the little girl before she walked downstairs. Rose would be fine. She was very resilient and quick in adapting to strange things and changes in her life. When Hermione entered the living room, Viktor was reading the latest Quidditch Magazine, plucking on his beard as he always did when he read. Hermione halted and leaned against the doorway with her shoulder, studying her husband. He was a kind and generous man, and he deserved so much more than she could ever give him. This entire arrangement they made … she had been careless. It was selfish.

Viktor, suddenly, looked up from his magazine and smiled at her. 'There you are. You have no idea how glad I am that you came back home tonight. I thought for sure Moran had arrested you or something with her irritating "that is classified" remark.'

'It's good to see you too,' Hermione said softly, staring at Viktor. 'I want a divorce.'

'What?' Viktor replied, astonished. 'But – but … we agreed …'

'I shouldn't have risked your life.'

'I owe you a life debt, Hermione. If you hadn't been around, those bloody vampires would have killed Angela and me. Besides, I knew what I was getting into. You warned me.'

'Not about everything and everyone, and not thoroughly enough,' Hermione responded. 'This isn't fair to you. You've placed your life on hold for me and …'

'That was my decision and my decision alone. I thought you needed my help with the Draculs? You said you needed me to sway the Wizarding Community in the Balkan.'

'I still do, but we …' she sighed. 'I believe the impact of your help may be even bigger if you do it after we are separated,' Hermione stated, businesslike.

Viktor raised his eyebrows at her tone. 'Maybe … still, I don't get it. Where does this sudden change of heart come from? Does this have anything to do with what happened tonight? Because we've discussed our options a million times and agreed this was the best choice of action, despite the risks, which I am more than willing to live with.'

'But I am not,' Hermione said shortly. 'Not anymore. I never should have been in the first place. And now it is not just about the Draculs and hiding Rose's heritage anymore. Something else came up as well. Things just got a whole lot more complicated.'

'All the more reason for me to stay. You can't do everything on your own, Hermione.'

'Don't make this any harder for me than it already is, Viktor. I am sorry, but there is so much I haven't told you. So much that I cannot tell you. I need to be alone, so I can manoeuvre freely without having to worry about you being used against me.'

'This has something to do with that Riddle fellow, hasn't it?'

Hermione stared at Viktor in shock.

'Oh please, Hermione, I may not be as smart as you are, but I am not stupid. You've been reluctant to go to this ball he organised from the moment you've heard of it. Then, you were relieved when Neville and Hannah were giving us the tour. After that you pulled your wand on him and all hell broke loose. I know you, Hermione. You don't draw your wand at the slightest hint of trouble. He is that dark wizard you told me about, isn't he? The one you are bonded to: Rose's father.'

Hermione sat down next to Viktor and rubbed her neck. Her headache just got a whole lot worse.

'Forgot about this, dear,' she softly said.

He started shaking his head vigorously. 'I am not some coward that will …'

Hermione placed her hand on his lips. 'Please, forget this … for me.'

Viktor looked at her pleading eyes, concerned. Eventually, he nodded reluctantly.

'I'll talk to Rose in the morning about everything, but I want to file the pa–'

'Look,' Viktor interrupted. 'I may agree to – er – _forget_ things for you, but can we at least sleep on the divorce issue? Or – or,' he repeated with emphasis, raising his hand to stop Hermione from disagreeing with him straight away, 'if you are adamant about doing it now, can't we at least wait till An and Vic have polled on it?'

Hermione roared in laughter. She had to grab onto her belly for support, because the muscle cramps were hurting her severely. After everything that had happened, it was too much. She just couldn't control herself. It was such a Krum thing to consider the consequences something like this would have on the election campaign.

'Fine, make fun of me,' Viktor said, amused. 'My grandmother always said: "Everything private is politics." Changes such as these can destroy your chance of getting elected if not handled properly. Voters reward continuity. They hate alterations, even if it isn't any of their business to begin with.'

'I think me drawing a wand on the marvellous Tom Riddle and getting an entire hospital evacuated which disturbed a fundraising event for sick children may be more devastating to my campaign than a measly divorce,' Hermione said, still laughing.

Viktor snorted humorously. 'Well, you have a point there. Eh, at least Angela will be happy. Now, she can say to everybody: I told you so.'

'I have no doubt in my mind that she will,' Hermione replied, yawning extensively. 'I am off to bed.'

'Sounds like a plan,' Viktor said mischievously.

'To sleep,' Hermione responded firmly. 'Men,' she added, rolling her eyes.

'No, beds aren't for sleeping,' Viktor said, pressing his hands to his chest and widening his eyes in fake shock.

'I have a splitting headache, dear. I am not in the mood.'

'Women,' Viktor muttered, disappointed.

xXxXx

The door to the Unspeakable's Head Office flew open and Minister Shacklebolt entered, accompanied by Harry and Ron. They just caught sight of Tom Riddle writhing and thrashing on the floor before Moran lowered her wand.

'What is going on here?' Kingsley asked, appalled.

'I am doing my job. Now, if you two will be so kind as to leave …'

'I am afraid I can't do that, Shirley,' Kingsley responded in his deep voice. 'At Harry's advice I went to St. Mungo's for a progress report. It appears your department has already cleared the scene. I am certain you know the charter you're invoking is only valid as long as there is no counterevidence to the threat assumed, which means you're no longer allowed to take drastic measures against British citizens now.'

'I wasn't made aware of that fact yet,' Moran said evenly.

'Hmm … of course, you weren't,' Kingsley said suspiciously.

The snort to that statement was the first sound that left Riddle's lips. He watched the exchange between the Minister and the Department Head amusedly, ignoring the outstretched hand Harry was offering as he scrambled to his feet.

Kingsley continued his speech to Moran. 'As you know once the threat has been deemed nonexistent, the priority one situation no longer applies and your special liberties are hereby revoked. I am turning this situation over to the Auror Office as of right now. Harry, it is all yours.'

Harry swirled his wand around, disengaging the specialised wards. A second later, the Department of Mysteries was flooded with Aurors. 'I want everyone to be taken upstairs to our floor and all evidence gathered,' Harry ordered. 'Lynn Thomas is the Auror in charge, if you run into any problems go to her.'

'There will be no problems,' Kingsley added certainly, eyeing Moran who had sat down behind her desk calmly.

'Tom,' Harry said, 'could you please follow me?'

'Certainly,' Tom replied, smiling. 'Ms. Moran, always a pleasure,' he added, nodding courteously to the woman. 'Until we meet again.'

Totally unabashed, Shirley smiled broadly in response. Everyone left her office expect for Ron.

'I am sorry about causing you these problems. I should have known …' Ron started, scratching his neck uncomfortably.

'Don't worry about it, Mr. Weasley,' Shirley interrupted, waving her hand through the air loosely. 'You don't become Head of this Department without developing a rather thick skin. If we do something, we upset the politicians. If we don't do something, we upset the politicians. Why don't you tag along with Mr. Potter and see if Riddle lets something slip to him. I want a full report on my desk of all his statements first thing in the morning.'

'Yes, Ma'am.'

Alone in her office, Shirley folded her hands in front of her and leaned her chin on them, staring into thin air – her mind's eye full of old memories. 'You'll slip up eventually, Voldemort, and I'll be there when you do. I'll be there.'


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's note: **I thank you all for reading and reviewing: Summer Leah, Slytherin Sith, mipah, Lilipop10122, shinobinaraku, Sailor2Moon, Morbid DramaQueen10, Blindfaithoperadiva, Abbelmus.

Mipah: I can understand that it's confusing if you try to keep track of all the temporal changes, especially since this is a WIP. So, you can't read on. Tom's face … LOL. It won't be long now. XD Yes, Vishna is related to Tom and Rose. But vamps don't officially acknowledge their human family bonds (in my story). However, unofficially … *winks*

* * *

**Masters of manipulation**

**Chapter 12**

'Mr. Riddle, Mr. Riddle!' Rita Skeeter shrieked above all the other reporters in the large hall of the ministry.

Flashes of bright white light nearly blinded him when the photographers took advantage of his appearance in the lobby. After all, Tom Riddle still wore his dress robes, which gave them quite the picture. Especially since he deliberately loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt as well as slung his black cloak casually over his shoulder. The slightly worn out and nonchalant image he was displaying enhanced his handsome features even more and it was no surprise to him that several female photographers present were taking far more pictures than absolutely necessary. Harry had quirked an amused eyebrow when he saw Tom was altering his appearance before going down to the Atrium.

'Trust me, Potter, I know what I'm doing. We want them to buy our story, don't we?' Tom had responded to Harry's snickering.

'Sure, they will never believe us otherwise,' Harry had retorted ironically.

But after everything that happened last night, Tom was thankful today's dress robes weren't nearly as uncomfortable as they'd been in his childhood. He'd scowled at the Muggle-inspired design when he first saw them, but had to admit they were much more pleasant to wear and not nearly as drafty. Besides, he'd learnt the hard way it was wise to wear pants to any dance Hermione was attending.

'Are you pressing charges?' Skeeter asked.

Not waiting for the response her acid-green Quick-Quotes Quill was already scratching vigorously on the parchment. Tom silently bent forward and quirked an eyebrow as he read the wonderful prose that was getting longer without him even uttering a single syllable of a word.

_Once again your intrepid reporter has uncovered the blatant abuse of power this administration is supporting. Yesterday evening, based on totally false and outrages accusations by Candidate Minister Granger, a woman whose vile acts are always neatly covered up, Tom Riddle was apprehended while organising an event to help and support our sick and needy children. Totally worn out and defeated, after what must have been a, no doubt, utter gruesome night, this fine, upstanding wizard has, at last, reached attractive, blonde Rita Skeeter, forty-three, to inform the Wizarding World of the gross injustice that has fallen upon him …'_

'Forty-three? You really are dedicated to unveil the truth, aren't you?' Tom asked Skeeter ironically, before addressing the others. 'Minister Shacklebolt will undoubtedly inform you all officially in a few moments, but right now, I am at liberty to tell you last night events were staged to determine the operative response of several Ministerial Departments to a threat concerning the security of one of our public buildings and the people inside. Mrs. Granger and myself were asked by the Minister in person to participate and trigger the events in this test. If I may say so myself, I believe we have given a wonderful performance.'

A charming, innocent smile graced his features upon making the last statement and he tilted his head slightly to enhance the effect. It elicited the proper response from the reporters around him. They did exactly what he wanted. They immediately loved him and ate up his cockamamie story with the hunger of a pack of wild coyotes. He certainly hadn't lost his touch in fooling idiots. Hundreds of questions were fired at him straight away.

'Mr. Riddle,' a dark-haired woman asked in a businesslike tone, 'why were you and Mrs. Granger chosen by the Minister? Surely, the Departmental Oversight Committee has people more qualified to perform such acts.'

_Avoid talking to the one with a brain at all cost. _

He looked around as if he was baffled by all the attention, waiting for the other reporters to drown out the critical question. He was not disappointed. They screamed through one another and he only heard a few questions fully.

'What are the results of this test?'

'Can you tell us who knew in advance that this was not a real threat?' a bald man asked.

'For as far as I know only Minister Shacklebolt, his personal secretary, Mrs. Granger and myself were in on this detail,' Tom responded, pretending to finally regain his composure and ignoring several other meaningless questions in order to avoid drawing attention to the question he'd deliberately evaded. 'Now, if you all excuse me, it has been a long night and …'

'Were you treated fairly?'

'Why was such a test deemed necessary?'

'Was this test implemented, because there is a valid concern to the operational status of our Departments?'

'Will the Ministry be offering compensation to those who suffered due to this test?'

'Are there …?'

'Ladies, gentlemen,' Tom interrupted, holding his hands up in the air as if he was surprised and shocked. 'I am sure the Minister will be out shortly to answer all your questions. I was merely the patsy here. I do not have insight in the details nor do I wish to speculate on them.'

This had been the sentence Harry and he had previously agreed on Tom would use to indicate when he felt the reporters bought enough of the story and were ready to hear more details. Perfectly on cue, Minister Shacklebolt arrived in the lobby, making the crowd of reporters run off to question him excitedly. A mocking smile flew across Riddle's face as he quickly disappeared in one of the hearths and Floo-ed away to his laboratory. After all, he had an explosive device to dismantle there.

Rather annoyed, he looked at the mess that was left behind by the bloody Unspeakables. Fortunately, they'd overlooked the item in question as he knew they would. He picked up the Mermish music box and opened it. The screeching was tormenting his eardrums painfully. He quickly hissed and spitted at it. For a second, the box seemed to consider not following the deactivating order that was spoken in Parseltongue, but eventually, all went quiet. Tom looked at the item with pleasure. He remembered how he'd found Potter with the device in his hands years ago and he had been worried that somehow his future plans had been leaked. But Potter had no idea what he was truly holding and thought it was an innocent item. Using Mermish had proven a most effective mean of making sure no one wanted to take a second look at the music box and torture their eardrums with the noise. Since only a Parselmouth could silence and activate it, he was pretty sure no one would ever catch on to what this delightful box could do.

He planted it back on the mantle and caressed it affectionately. It had worked. He'd been worried the explosive yield would not be enough to bring the reinforced building down. Still, he remembered summoning the box to St. Mungo's and sending it the hissed detonation order as he was standing between the silly Muggles on the street. Seeing the wonderful explosion and the delicious manner in which the entire building fell down on top of every single one of his enemies had been absolutely thrilling. His plan had worked out perfectly with only one exception: Malfoy.

He should never have left it up to Malfoy to lure Hermione out of there. He should have taken care of that himself. Then, she wouldn't have had the opportunity to leave the scene and escape him. He sighed, knowing he hadn't done it himself, because he knew she would be accompanied by Weasley or another nosy, interfering busybody if she would have left the place with him. Getting to Hermione in the United Kingdom on his own without a crowd of Unspeakables following him around had already proven quite the impossible feat. And he couldn't just ditch them, because that would draw unwanted attention as well. At times, it had taken him quite some effort to make sure the fools didn't lose him when he walked the streets.

However, leaving it up to a Malfoy had been a mistake. One, he won't make again. Though, he doubted he would get another opportunity to blow everyone up. Too bad. Still, the box was not in his way and who knew what use it might have in the future. After all, it worked smoothly. Maybe he could strap that Moran woman to it?

A cold laugh sounded through the lab.

No, that would be a far too quick a death. Reminiscing on every possible manner he could dispose of the woman, he sank into a chair. So many options and only one choice could be made. A disappointed sigh left his lips. He would so relish trying it all out on her. The vile piece of woman had the nerve to Crucio him: _Him!_

And then, there was the fact that some bloody vampire had thrown a knife into his back. He should exterminate them all for it. Fortunately, he'd taken his precautions; otherwise he would have died right there and then. However, his plan hadn't worked out completely as he had foreseen. Tom had been certain in advance that Hermione would eventually come to her senses and Apparate out of the mountain to avoid the violence of the hormone-driven vampires. But she hadn't done that. The foolish woman had stayed in the mountain and had almost been killed by his ally, Prince Vlad. It was only due to some of his precautions that he was able to prevent it from happening. He had noticed she was in mortal peril, because he could feel her terror inside of him.

He sighed. He had to hex her all over again. Although the potion he'd fed her should theoretically survive temporal incursions, he couldn't check it until he deactivated that inconvenient blockade Hermione had erected between them, making sure they did not share each other's feelings and emotions. Merlin, how he hated having to repeat himself, especially for a silly witch who didn't know what was good for her.

Tom rubbed his hands through his pitch-black hair, making it quite messy. Contemplating on the real mystery, he leaned back in his chair. How the hell had he gone back in time? Who had been responsible for it? Why had they done it? What was their motive?

Frustrated, he got out of the chair and started pacing the lab. If there was one thing he hated, it had to be: not knowing all the answers. However, there was one other person who remembered the alternate timeline.

'_He is planning to blow the building and kill everyone.' _

Hermione could recall what had happened previously, though oddly, no one else had. Then again, they all died, so that might be the reason as to why they didn't remember. He should contact Vlad and see if the vampire prince had any memory of it. Still, somehow, he had a distinct feeling Vlad wouldn't. It really was a pain in the arse that he was out cold when the time travel occurred, because now, he had no idea as to the how, what, who and why. Hermione might know though. A deep frown appeared on his face. She would be reluctant to share her knowledge with him, especially if she was the one who had initiated it. It wouldn't surprise him, considering they did arrive back at a very convenient point in time for her.

However, if she had, the question still remained how? Potter had said those books were destroyed, and he hadn't picked up on any lies there. Then again, he could never tell if Potter was lying or not. It was most bothersome. Whoever invented Occlumency should have been hung from the highest tree.

Potter? Wasn't that an option, too?

No, he'd finally killed the meddlesome fool. Dead people just don't go about and alter time. No, it had to be Hermione … or him? He halted on the spot. Damn, that was also an option. After all, he'd rewritten Slytherin's book. He had the knowledge. All that was missing from it was the power to travel through time. Unfortunately, Salazar Slytherin had never written down in the original how to accomplish that. Tom was beginning to curse the Founder for that lapse in judgement, because he still had not found a way to make his book work.

Tom had immediately begun working on writing his Time Travel book after arriving in 1998 and he was very pleased with the end result as well as with the corrections and additions he had added to Salazar Slytherin's Time Theory. If his future self had somehow found a way to make the book work, it could also have been him who changed time. But why would he have sent himself back to that exact moment in time? Why not right after the blast? The world was at his feet after it. He won. Maybe the explosion caused something unforeseen? Something that was not profitable to him?

'_You're delusional if you think I am walking down the aisle with you again __**after**__ you felt the need to kill all those people and turn into this … this … Voldemort.'_

A twinge of regret twisted inside of his chest. She still wasn't his. Not even after he eliminated that Stupid Snivelling Snitch Seeking Bearded Bulgarian Baboon. It annoyed him severely. Having certain emotions was frustrating him. Ever since his other self had created this bond, it was eliciting all these despicable, weak feelings inside of him. They were hers, no doubt. Useless emotions like love, care, regret, remorse … He shuddered in disgust. He had to suppress them. He had to. If there was one thing he would call an unwanted side-effect of something his other self did, it was this.

He growled.

But he would beat these emotions. Lord Voldemort was who he was. It was his past, present and future. Lord Voldemort sure as hell wasn't going to be thwarted by some stupid, stubborn, little Gryffindor who had such a cute smile when she laughed …

He sighed, thinking fondly of Hermione.

_Many years ago, in a small bathroom in a hotel in the middle of Mexico City, Hermione was drying her hair with a swift wave of her wand. She turned around and smiled at him cheerfully, before trying to pass him in the narrow doorway. She was probably thinking he needed to use the bathroom now, but it was not why he was standing there. He was merely admiring the view._

'_Riddle, you are in my way.' _

'_I know,' Tom responded, tilting his head and smirking mischievously. _

_Hermione folded her arms over each other bossily. 'Aren't you going to move?'_

'_Ermm … maybe,' he teased. 'Depends on what's in it for me.'_

_Suddenly, her wand was back in her hand, and she twirled it around with a devious smirk. 'Well, you get to keep certain body parts. Is that incentive enough?' _

_His eyes widened in mock fright. Immediately, he jumped out of the way and held the door open for her, while hiding behind it with said body parts. 'Will Milady desire anything else?' _

_Hermione looked upward in a contemplative manner, like she really had to think about the answer to that question. 'Well, there is …' _

_She shrieked in surprise when he suddenly scooped her up and threw her on the bed. 'Too late,' Tom said and started tickling her, until she begged for mercy. _

_One thing let to another._

He waved his hand dismissively through the air. Trips down memory lane wouldn't get him anywhere. He needed information on what happened recently and there was only one person who was able to supply him with it. A little trip to Knockturn Alley was in order.

Tom Riddle looked out the window, decided to go walking, and summoned his cloak. It was dry outside, but the cold made a cloak imperative. Fortunately, the shop in Knockturn Alley was only a single street away from his laboratory. And he needed some fresh air to clear his mind. Tom closed the door behind him when someone he thought he would never have the displeasure of laying eyes on ever again Apparated right in front of him. Blankly, he stared at the oversized, thick, black eyebrows and the stupid beard that defined Viktor Krum's appearance. What could that overgrown bird of prey possibly be doing here? Tom never had time to finish the question in his mind, because a split-second later, Viktor grabbed a hold of his cloak and pushed him into the door roughly.

'You will leave Hermione alone,' Krum snarled.

Tom raised his eyebrows. 'As far as I remember it, Krum, it was Hermione who didn't leave me alone last night,' he said quietly. 'So why don't you talk to your wife if you're that insecure of your own position with her?'

'She told me everything, Riddle. If you so much as breathe into her direction, you will regret it severely.'

'Everything? I sincerely doubt it,' Tom responded mockingly and tilted his head. 'If she had, you wouldn't have been so foolish to come here and threaten me. Now go be a good, little boy and hurry off on your broomstick to chase something you may be able to catch.'

'What's the matter, Riddle? Upset that she hasn't chosen to be with you, despite that bond you forced on her?' Viktor replied triumphantly. 'Seems to me you are the one unable to catch what he is chasing.'

'Is everything alright, gentlemen?'

Viktor turned his head to the elderly wizard behind him, missing the brief gleam of redness in Riddle's eyes.

'Yes, everything is fine,' Krum told the old man, while stepping back and letting go of Riddle's cloak. 'Just a small disagreement, but we have sorted it out now.'

'Yes, we have,' Tom acquiesced, smiling.

His wandhand was itching to curse Krum into oblivion. Quickly, he glanced up and down the alley. It was too crowded to do anything, so he kept his wand in his pocket utterly disappointed. In the mean time, the old man's eyes darted back and forth between them questionably. The man was obviously not convinced they had spoken the truth. Tom decided it was time to take himself away from this unwelcome temptation, because hexing Krum in front of so many people would definitely blow his holier than thou cover and the Quidditch maniac wasn't worth it. Courteously, he nodded to the old man and Krum, his fist clenching inside his pocket around his wand, hoping Krum would be foolish enough to make some move that would excuse him for hexing the moron.

'I'd love to stay and chat. Unfortunately, I have immediate business to attend to,' Tom said without a shred of emotion visible on his face. 'It was nice meeting you, Mr. Krum. We'll have to do it again some time soon.'

_Yes, they really had to._

Swiftly, Riddle stalked away before his temper got the better of him. He regretted that the Quidditch Fool hadn't Apparated inside of his lab. He could have had a jolly good time. Alas, he had to file it along with everything else on his "to do list".

It didn't take him long to reach Borgin and Burkes' shop. Fortunately, both of his old employers had passed away some time ago, leaving the shop to some younger cousin Tom had never seen. The cousin was the sole beneficiary in their will, enabling Tom to enter the rare Dark Arts shop in person again. He hadn't dared to risk it while they were still alive. They could have identified him. The doorbell rang as he entered. Tom was pleased the shop was blissfully quiet. It came in handy that he was the only customer there: no witnesses. The door to the storage opened, revealing a small, thin man with a mousy moustache and a shiny bald head who walked towards the counter with quick, short steps.

'How can I be of service to you, sir?' the man drawled.

'I need a vial of Veritaserum,' Tom responded blankly. After all, Legilimency wouldn't work on Hermione.

'A highly, illegal and ministerial regulated potion,' the man replied slowly, 'it's a very rare and expensive draught to obtain.'

'Name your price,' Tom barked.

He knew from past experiences during his schooldays to get down to business straight away, because the previous shop owners had always been rather tardy and chatty whenever they felt they could wriggle a lot of money out of one of their customers. It seemed the cousin was quite similar in his approach. However, he didn't feel like doing the whole song and dance routine. He just wanted to get the potion and leave as soon as possible. He hadn't been followed over here, yet, but who knew when those nosy Unspeakables would resume in tailing him. Not that he was unable to give them the slip. It had been harder to make certain, he didn't lose them by accident. After all, he didn't want them to be aware of his knowledge of their presence.

A figure was written down on a piece of paper and handed to him. Tom crumbled up the piece of paper in an instance.

'Outrageous,' he responded coldly.

'Then … I suggest trying the Potions Shop in Diagon Alley,' the shopkeeper replied sweetly.

'Perhaps I will inform the Aurors of the secret storage facility behind the Statue of Humbartho the Great instead,' Tom countered in an equally sweet tone of voice. The man's face turned pink, making Tom fold his arms in contentment. 'Now, can we talk about a reasonable price?' he asked, smirking. 'Or should I just take what I need?'

Another figure was scribbled down on the paper and handed to him with an uncertain and unsteady hand. It was a price Riddle could live with and the shopkeeper went back to the storage to collect the vial. It was handed to him in a small, glass bottle labelled: "Fountain of Beauty" as disguise. A perfect disguise, since it was a nonexistent, fairytale potion designed to swindle money out of ugly people. It was common knowledge in the Wizarding World that "Fountain of Beauty" was nothing more than plain tab water. Yet, there were still people desperate enough to buy it for the mere hope this vial would contain the real deal. Tom paid for it when the doorbell rang again. A snort sounded behind him as he pocketed the potion. Recognising the voice, Riddle's hand moved around his wand.

'I thought I might find you inside a questionable establishment such as this one, but I had no idea you were that desperate, Riddle,' Krum said, having obviously noticed the label on the vial. 'I wasn't entirely finished with our business just yet.'

'Me neither,' Tom said quietly.

His knuckles turned white around his yew wand as he slowly turned around. Krum had been foolish to come into this shop. They were on his turf now. The odds had definitely shifted in his favour. He was still overjoyed about his delightful opportunity when a fist collided harsh with his nose, and Tom tumbled backward into the counter roughly.

xXxXx

Crack.

Hermione Apparated right back into her living room. She'd had a busy day and was looking forward to sit down on the sofa and do absolutely nothing this evening. She threw her belongings and the parcel from Jürgen to Rose on the coffee table, before walking into the hall.

'Rose, Viktor, I am home!' Hermione yelled, placing her cloak on the hanger.

There was no response, making her shrug. Rose was probably still outside with James and company, and Viktor … well, she hadn't seen him this morning, but he was supposed to go to the Ministry and get the paperwork done for their divorce. After that he would, no doubt, be debating with Angela and the others on how to handle said divorce in the campaign. Hermione had done a lot of things today, but none of them had any relation to her running for the post of Minister. Frankly, she had a hard time focusing on that right now with everything that had happened.

She had slept in rather late, being tired from all the previous days and the trials and tribulations in them. And still, her headache had not cleared up completely. It was beginning to worry her somewhat and she was considering consulting a Healer if it didn't go away soon. She'd had a brief talk with Rose about time travel and everything, but was unable to go into detail, because the Potters were still around and Rose wanted to go play with them. Apparently, her presence was essential to the game they were playing. Hermione didn't mind leaving the difficult conversation for a later time.

But she did manage to convey her displeasure to Rose about her leaving the vault that night _after_ she'd explicitly told her to remain safe. Rose had squeaked that she'd not planned it. That she'd suddenly found herself near her mother when she'd been scared. Hermione knew that was plausible. The vault was not designed to keep people in, just out. And she herself had had weird Apparition moments as a child in times of emotional upheaval. None of them had been so bloody dangerous though.

After the children had gone to the Potters' house, Hermione had Apparated to Mount Krakatau to see if Vishna remembered anything. He'd said he hadn't. Though, he had been acting peculiar when she told him what occurred before. She guessed it had been quite a fantastic story: vampire worthy. Jürgen had interrupted their meeting and handed Hermione something she wasn't at all thrilled about to see again. Since the half vampire was not to blame for the way Rose had used his gift, Hermione had thanked and told him she was certain Rose would love it. Well, the girl had in the past.

After completing the useless conversation with Vishna, Hermione had gone to see Harry at his work and they'd talked for a long time. Harry'd informed her about the coverstory he and Tom had developed for her actions at the dance. It made her rather suspicious that Tom had cooperated with such a story, but she guessed he couldn't afford to have his true identity be known now that he failed in killing everyone. She had an intense debate with Harry about time travel laws and the possibility of things being different this time around. They disagreed firmly. Alas, they also didn't have enough information to place all the pieces together. In the end, it had been a useless conversation, too.

However, she wasn't going to take Harry's assumption that things could be different for a fact. If Harry and Vishna couldn't supply her with enough information to solve this mystery, she sure as hell knew someone who could. There was no doubt in her mind Tom remembered everything, even though he had not breathed a word to her about it yet and told Harry he couldn't recall.

Pfftt… like she was going to buy that bullshit.

She needed more information on what had happened recently and Tom seemed to be the only one who was able to supply her with it. Obviously, he would be reluctant to share it with her. Still, she wasn't Hermione Jean Granger, the smartest witch of her age, for nothing. She would get the information out of that no good, unbelievably foul piece of a … hot specimen of a man. She sighed, thinking of Tom.

'_There has to be a fourth piece in that equation,' Tom said, frowning, and looked at the tablet again. _

'_Of course not, you're forgetting there never is a fourth when Eliasys's Rule applies to a situation,' Hermione rebutted, scribbling another figure down._

'_It doesn't work without a fourth. Look!' He pushed his parchment underneath her nose. _

'_That's because you're leaving out MacCullen's Law again,' Hermione said tiresomely and underlined the place where it should have been added before she pushed the parchment demonstratively back to Tom._

'_MacCullen's Law is flawed,' he responded, unabashed by her corrections. 'I am trying something different.'_

_Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Yes, let's try something different for a change,' she said sarcastically. 'Why use perfectly fine already existing Arithmancy Laws when you can go all creative and invent some for your own little, Riddle-centred universe?'_

'_You're taking the words right out of my mouth, Granger,' Tom responded, smirking. _

_He turned the tablet around and around, searching for the needed fourth equation. Hermione merely shook her head and continued her Arithmancy. After four more hours, two triumphant yells sounded simultaneously. _

'_Got it,' Tom said, leaning back in his seat lazily. _

'_Finished,' Hermione said, placing her quill on the table._

_For a second, they both stared at each other's parchment silently and unmoving. Quickly, curiosity got the better of them and both parchments were snatched away. Hermione read through Tom's numbering sequences with several disapproving coughs, frowns, and sighs, until she reached something totally outrageous. _

'_You can't just add up those numbers. This goes against the very foundations Arithmancy is built upon.'_

_Tom leaned over the table to look at his parchment casually. 'Oh, you mean that. Jolessy proved you can, if you reimburse the numbering later and I did. See, right here,' and he pointed to a sequence a few lines below._

_Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. 'Jolessy's Arithmancy has been illegal for centuries due to the Dark Arts' nature of her equations and the inherent risks.'_

'_And your Arithmancy point being?' Tom asked, glancing over her parchment with a gratified, smug expression._

'_Never mind,' she relinquished. _

_No point in starting that debate with Lord Voldemort, so she pretended not to hear the triumphant snort on the other side of the table. There were no more disturbances after that, and in the end, both parchments came up with the same result. Hermione just couldn't resist the temptation to tell him that apparently his illegal manner had been completely unnecessary. _

'_My way is a lot quicker, Granger,' Tom said, showing the shorter numbering sequences on his parchment. _

'_Then, why did it take you just as long to get there?' Hermione replied teasingly, pocketing the parchments in her beaded bag. _

_She stood up to leave the museum and snorted when there was no response from Tom to her statement. Triumphantly, she walked away. Tom quickly caught up with her and stopped her by grabbing a hold of her arm. He nodded with his head in the direction of the tablet. _

'_I still think we should take it with us. I can transfigure …'_

'_We are not robbing a museum,' Hermione said sternly. 'We've got what we needed. Now let's go.'_

_The both of them stared at the other, as if testing their resolve in this matter. It was silent when Tom closed the distance between them, pulled her against him, and spun them around the spot. _

'_I don't feel like walking,' he said right before he Apparated them away. _

_It became very late that night._

Hermione waved dismissively with her hand through the air. This was not the time to dwell on the past and take trips down memory lane when a certain someone was undoubtedly screwing around with the very fabric of time itself. She hadn't spent so many months in Slytherin not to pick up on a few cunning trades herself. She paced to the cupboard underneath the staircase. Tom would tell her everything if she succeeded. He'd have no choice. Hermione rummaged through the cupboard. Where had she placed those blasted potions? All she needed was a bit of Veritaserum and find some way to force-feed it down Riddle's throat.

A shout of joy left her lips when she found the locked, wooden box that contained them. A quick wave of her wand made the box identify her and it opened. She found the antidote first. That was one … The actual potion had to be somewhere near it. Mandrake Draught, Pepperup Potion, Draught of the Living Death … Veritaserum.

Yes!

Smirking, she took the vial out of the box and was about to close it again with a wave of her wand when she remembered her headache was still troubling her. She continued checking the box. Alas, she was all out of Painkiller Potion. A trip to Diagon Alley in the near future would be advisable.

Hermione looked up when the frontdoor slammed shut. That would be Viktor or Rose. She placed the box back and pocketed the Potions vials. There was no need to alarm anyone. Besides, she still had no idea how the hell she was going to be able to get Tom to ingest it. But she would find a way, she always did. It would be tricky though.

Calmly, she stepped out the cupboard into the hall when a loud hissing noise greeted her. The huge King Cobra named Tyra had its head raised, showing of its hood to her husband who stood utterly frozen against the frontdoor. Viktor's eyes were wide and his face had turned utterly pale. Hermione swore. She had completely forgotten about the snake. Besides, it wasn't supposed to be out here.

'Rose!' she yelled, making Tyra turn her head and glare at her briefly.

But the snake decided that Hermione was not allowed to be eaten and continued gazing and hissing vehemently at Viktor, who obviously was too frightened to move, speak, and basically do anything. However, Hermione knew that if the snake was loose in the house, Rose had to be in too.

'Rose! Get Tyra back to your …!' Hermione halted when she heard the little footsteps approaching.

'Sorry, I didn't know she slithered downstairs,' Rose said apologetically, before hissing and spitting at the cobra.

The cobra turned its head away from Viktor disappointed and hissed something back. Rose shrugged and looked at her mother. 'Mum, Tyra is hungry and she …'

Hermione sighed and waved her wand around. 'I've put something to eat for Tyra in your room, so bring her back there. You can't allow her to slither around, Rose. It's too dangerous. We'll transport her back to India where she belongs later this evening.'

Rose pouted. 'Can't I keep her? I'll make certain she won't attack Daddy again.'

'We've already had this discussion, Rose,' Hermione said sternly. 'I promised you we would get a nice garden snake for you later, but this country is too cold for Tyra and she is far too noticeable.'

Rose stomped up the stairs, hissing at Tyra in an indignant tone of voice. Hermione smiled and shook her head. She was certain Rose was complaining to the snake about not being allowed to keep her. Turning her attention to Viktor, she raised her eyebrows. He was leaning against the wooden door like he was about to faint. His face was utterly white and his jaw had dropped, while his eyes seemed frozen in a wide-open stare at the staircase the snake had just moved up to. Hermione felt he was a bit overreacting. Really, Tyra wasn't that dangerous. Rose had told her not to bite any people.

'I'm sorry, dear,' she said apologetically anyway, knowing how frightened he was of the wildlife Rose kept on bringing into their homes. 'I forgot all about the cobra. I'll transport Tyra out this evening. Promise. But I've just got back from Mount Krakatau and Vishna was acting all weird. He said he had no recollections of the time I had spent at Krakatau before, including the attack and all, but …' she paused thoughtfully, gesturing her hands through the air as a support to help her think. Quickly, she pecked him on his cheek and walked back into the living room. 'Well, he was definitely holding something back from me. I could tell. So I decided to provoke him. I said that he was lying to me. You should have seen the look on his face. I am lucky I am still breathing and standing upright at the moment. Anyway, after he calmed down a bit and wasn't in the mood to rip my head off anymore, he gave me a Vampire Oath, stating he absolutely told me the truth about not remembering past events. I guess it means he wasn't lying; Vishna would never have made the oath if he were. I do wonder what his strange reactions were about. But did you get the papers from the ministry?'

Hermione turned around with two mugs of coffee in her hands that she'd filled while talking. Viktor was nowhere to be seen.

'Viktor?' she asked, puzzled. She walked back to the hall and saw he was still standing at the same spot against the door, flabbergasted and frozen. 'What are you doing?' Hermione asked, making a face.

That drew him out of his stupor. 'Excuse me?' Viktor asked.

'Don't you think you're a bit overreacting?' she asked, somewhat annoyed. 'I mean it is not like you haven't seen the snake before and …'

'Hello, it attacked me.'

'If it really had attacked you, you'd be dead now. Obviously, Rose already told Tyra not to eat any people, because as far as I remember, King Cobras don't mind to take a bite out of a human being, although they do prefer to eat other snakes.' She giggled.

Viktor merely stared at her, making Hermione's temper rise. She really wasn't up for another stupid, meaningless debate about the bloody snake. It wasn't staying anyway.

'I've got coffee,' she stated shortly, holding up the two mugs. 'The snake will be leaving tonight. Now, are you coming in or are you planning to stay attached to the frontdoor?'

Finally, Viktor pushed himself away from the door and followed Hermione in, occasionally glaring up the stairs with a look of bemusement as if he just couldn't believe his eyes.

'So I spoke with Harry,' Hermione said, handing him his mug. 'Angela and Victoria must be really pleased about the coverstory.'

Viktor nodded and sat down, taking a sip of his coffee quietly. He seemed completely caught up in his own mind and it was beginning to annoy the crap out of Hermione.

'Did you get the papers?' she asked curtly.

'I'll get them tomorrow,' he replied, distracted.

'Look, it is not like we haven't planned this, Viktor,' she said, sighing. 'I'm just moving up the timetable. So tell me, is that sour face of yours an indication the polling data on our divorce is not completely negative? Because, really, I've had a couple of rough days behind me, and I am not in the mood for you going all silent and moody here. My head is still killing me and I …'

'I spoke with Riddle.'

Hermione flew to her feet, spilling her coffee. 'You what!' she yelled, forgetting her headache and slamming the mug on the table, hard.

'Actually, I spoke is not the right wording,' Viktor said, snorting. 'I broke his nose would be a more accurate description. A bit of a baby, isn't he? Not very good in taking a punch.'

Appalled, Hermione stared at him. 'You broke his nose?' she muttered disbelievingly and looked up and down her husband as if to check for damage, but he seemed fine. 'You're lucky you're still among the living right now.'

'Oh, I am fine. He never had the time to do anything. I left after hitting him. It felt really good,' Viktor said, satisfied.

'You are crazy,' she hissed, while advancing towards Viktor. 'Why, why, why …?'

She couldn't finish her sentence. A sharp stabbing right behind her eyes demanded her attention. Hermione groaned and took a hold of her head in pain.

'Headache?' Viktor asked, concerned.

Silently, Hermione nodded carefully and sat herself back down on the couch. She really didn't feel up to an argument. It wasn't like she could change what he had done anyway. Moron.

'Have you taken a Painkiller Potion?'

'We're all out.'

'Maybe the Potters have some next-door? I could go and ask them?' Viktor inquired, while staring intently at his wife who had closed her eyes and slid down slightly on the couch.

'Sounds like a good idea,' Hermione responded tiresomely. _The only good idea he ever had_.

It didn't take Viktor long. Hermione held out her hand to receive the bottle he was holding, but he walked straight into the kitchen behind her without handing her anything. She raised her eyebrows.

'This one needs diluting,' he answered upon seeing her questioning expression.

'Trust me, it won't,' Hermione said dryly.

When Viktor came back from the kitchen, she leaned her arm over the couch to accept the glass he was carrying. But he planted it on the side table next her.

'You would have dropped it,' he said in response to her bemused stare.

Hermione snorted and picked up the glass. 'I have a headache, dear. There is nothing wrong with my motor skills,' she said to his back.

'No, _you_ never drop anything,' he said humorously.

'Very funny. But thanks for getting it. I hope this works.'

Without giving it a second thought, she downed the entire contents of the glass.

'Oh, I am sure it will work,' Viktor said, smirking satisfied as he stared out the window.


	14. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's note: **I thank you all for reading and reviewing: BlueSkyHeaven, XcrimsonroseX, IceAgeSurvivor123, ArtemisMoon87, GoldenTresses91, Summer Leah, cherrylilly, sarahr85, ilovenat1995, Lilipop10122, Rosiline, shinobinaraku, OrangeSoxz, EllieMay Duncan, Morbid DramaQueen10, XellamyBB, Alrauna, Noon's Phoenix.

* * *

**Masters of Manipulation: Part Two**

**Chapter 13**

Harry James Potter stared at the clock in his office. It was almost the previously agreed upon time for their meeting. He paced up and down the length of the chamber. He wasn't sure they were doing the right thing, not sure at all. A dash of silver blinded him briefly before he smiled at the person standing in front of him. The vampire's short, light-grey hair was something he had to get used to every time he saw her again. This time around, it was baffling messy from the temporal forces she had travelled through. Still, he missed seeing her large bushy bundle of frizzy curls, even though her clever, brown eyes were the one feature he would recognise anywhere in the world. No matter how pale her skin turned, or how many blades she wore, or how long her teeth became.

'Harry.'

'Hermione.'

The bone-crushing manner in which this Hermione hugged him always made him slightly wary. It was as if she hadn't seen him in ages. He hadn't dared to ask her anything about the future. He was pretty certain she wouldn't answer his questions anyway. But he noticed how she always held on a bit longer than her counterpart did in this day and age. Somehow, he got the feeling he died a long time ago from when she came. Well, she was a vampire. There was no telling how old she was. He'd been reluctant to ask for some reason.

'How did it go?' Hermione asked curiously.

'Everything went as you predicted and I responded in the way you told me to, meaning I was able to stop Moran before she went completely overboard, but …'

'Oh, oh, there is a but,' Hermione interrupted warily before Harry could finish.

'I'm not sure you changed it. Riddle is holding something back.'

Hermione snorted. 'Of course Tom is holding something back. It's in his nature. He would go nuts if he had no secrets to keep.'

Harry grinned. 'I don't think it's something pleasant, Hermione. I doubt you got the result you were hoping for. I've a distinct feeling he was going to blow the building again if your younger counterpart hadn't prevented it.'

Hermione frowned and sat down in one of the chairs, crossing one leg over the other. She ran her hands through her short hair and sighed.

'But he didn't, Harry. Someone is screwing around with Time. I have to find some way to change things back before we're all doomed.'

'Helga Huffle–'

'Oh, spare me the idiot Founders and their ancient views on temporal incursions. Their stupid theories are the reason we have this mess to begin with,' Hermione muttered, irritated. 'But let's not go there. We need to cut to the chase, since I don't have unlimited time.'

Harry quirked an eyebrow at that. His eye automatically drew to the black leather book in her lap, titled: The Circle of Time. It seemed to him Hermione had all the time in the world.

'You still think Tom is after his old obsessions in this timeline?'

'I am pretty sure we are dealing with Lord Voldemort again, Hermione.'

'Pretty sure or one-hundred percent certain? It's a thin line with him.'

'Well, I can't be one-hundred percent certain unless he pulls something. And usually when he does, we are all walking so far behind the facts that I'd like to prevent that occurrence altogether.'

'And I don't want to alter a timeline unnecessary. It's dangerous to mess with Time too much,' Hermione said, pondering on the situation at hand. 'It can turn rather vengeful.'

'Hermione?'

'Yes?'

'Why do you need me to tell you how things are going to turn out? You're from the future. Surely, you must notice any alterations we make here when you return.'

Hermione smiled. 'Good question, but wrong assumption. When I return, everything will still be as I left it. You see, Harry, it takes awhile before the ripple-effect reaches my time and space. It's faster to look at the balance immediately in the days to follow. It gives you the best indication if the changes you made are going to work.'

'If that is the case, you should talk to yourself,' Harry suggested.

'No, I can't do that. I wish I could, but I can't risk Tom finding out what I am doing through my younger self. He's always been pretty darn good in reading me.'

Harry shrugged. 'Well, I think we've only delayed the inevitable yesterday.'

'If you're right that means the dance wasn't the focal point after all. I'll have to scout the continuum again to check. You know what … I'll see you next week, same time, same place? After a week, we should be able to tell if we succeeded or not. And I don't think Tom can do too much damage in one week.'

Harry made a face and sent her a pitiful, mocking smile.

'All right, all right,' Hermione acknowledged. 'He can do a whole lot of damage in one week, but nothing I can't fix … I hope.' The last two words came out in a soft whisper. Hermione stood up. 'Don't worry, Harry, eventually I will find the fool who is meddling with Time. We have the advantage here, because Time is on our side in this. Fortunately, the situation is still containable. It may look out of control, but beside us, no one knows. It limits–'

'Ron suspects me,' Harry interrupted abruptly.

'What?' she said concerned. 'How is that possible?'

'The Founders' books. He thinks I haven't destroyed them.'

'But you did.'

'I know I did, but Ron doesn't believe me.'

Hermione shook her head and sat back down. 'This is a disaster. The reason I went to you and only you in the first place is: because Ron is such a dreadful Occlumens. If Tom retrieves this bit of information from him, he will start to look for those books again.'

'Well, they aren't to be found,' Harry said casually.

A weak smile appeared on the vampire's pale face. 'I know about the Tracker, Harry.'

Shocked, Harry looked at her.

'Don't worry,' Hermione said, amused. 'I don't seek that kind of power, but I know the threat is still out there. If Tom starts looking …' she paused, her fingers tapping on the book, 'I don't care how good you think you hid it, he will find it. You'll have to do something about Ron suspecting you and you'll have to do it fast.'

'You're not suggesting I Obliviate Ron?' Harry asked disturbed.

'Yes, I am. If it bothers you too much, you can use Memory Modification instead of Obliviation. It's slightly less invasive. But you need to do something. This is absolute power we're talking about. It's what the Tracker represents, and that's not something which is safe in anyone's hands … let alone in the hands of Tom Marvolo Riddle.'

Harry scratched his neck uneasily.

'Do you need me to do it?' Hermione asked kindly.

He shook his head. 'No, you have enough on your mind. I'll … I'll get it done.'

'Good.' She rose from her seat and opened the book. 'Till next time.'

In a flash of silver, the vampire Hermione disappeared.

Alone again in the empty office, Harry sighed, leaning with his butt against his desk. This was all becoming far too complicated to his taste.

xXxXx

Pulling a disgusted face, a much younger, human Hermione placed the empty glass back on the side table.

'That was an utterly disgusting Painkiller Potion. I can't believe Ginny hasn't bought a more child friendly variant. Really, there are far better tasting Painkiller Potions out there, and with three children …'

The doorbell rang, making Hermione halt her complaints about the disgusting potion. In front of the window, the man disguised as Viktor Krum glanced at the yew wand in his hand and sighed. Terrific, visitors, just what he didn't need. Smoothly, he pocketed his wand unnoticeably, while Hermione groaned in annoyance.

'Can you get rid of them, Viktor, whoever they are? I am not up for company.'

_Oh, I can get rid of them … in so many delightful ways … let's see who has the nerve to disturb Lord Voldemort._

'It will be my pleasure,' Tom Riddle responded in Krum's voice, before he swirled out of the room.

Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise, then, snorted. Closing her eyes, she leaned her aching head back in the couch's pillow. The potion should kick in any minute now. She really needed it to kick in now. Her head was killing her.

Irritated about the disturbance, Tom opened the frontdoor. The person who stood there did not improve his mood at all. It was Ron Weasley, holding on to a large bouquet of flowers and a small parcel.

'Mr. Krum,' Ron said stiffly, immediately making a move to step across the threshold.

Tom quickly blocked his entrance by placing his hand on the rim of the doorway. 'Hermione isn't feeling well,' he said calmly.

'Oh, poor you, she gets really cranky when she is sick,' Ron replied, unabashed, and made another attempt to pass what he assumed was Viktor Krum. 'Do you mind?' Ron glared at Viktor's arm.

'She's not feeling up to company at the moment. Hermione wants to rest,' Tom said icily.

'I'm not company,' Ron stated, certain. 'She won't mind–'

'Ron! Is that you?'

A triumphant smile arrived on his freckled face. 'Told you,' Ron said and blatantly pushed Viktor aside to walk indoors. Something he might have thought twice about doing had he known who he really was pushing aside.

Behind Ron's back, Viktor's eyes flashed red. Tom closed the frontdoor softly with every bit of restraint he could muster. In his bottled up anger, he broke off the doorknob. Fortunately, that was easily fixed with a bit of magic. His temper, on the other hand, was a far more difficult problem to fix. Leaning against the door and focusing on his breathing, he tried desperately to control himself. Only every time he thought he had it under control, something was said in the living room that caused his anger to rise again. So, he stayed put.

In the meantime, Ron was hugging Hermione. 'Are you alright?' he asked, concerned.

'Just a headache, nothing to get all worked up about,' she responded, putting on a brave face and smiling. 'Is that for me?'

'Yes, I thought I'd bring you something for nearly destroying all chance you have of every getting elected.'

'Well, Harry fixed it.'

'And Riddle being oh so benevolent went along with it,' Ron mocked. 'Did you have to crawl on your knees and beg forgiveness yet?'

Hermione snorted and slapped him. 'Funny Ron.' She placed her hands on her hips and looked at the flowers and the parcel with a teasing grin. 'So you thought one bouquet of flowers and an incredibly tiny package would be enough compensation?'

'Do not trash the gift before opening,' Ron said, waddling his index finger at her before handing her the package. 'Have you got a vase around here somewhere?'

'Try one of the top cabinets,' Hermione said, distracted, ripping off the paper. Her jaw dropped when she saw Ron had got her The Aspects of Seven by Bridget Wenlock. Stunned, she opened the book and stared at the ancient pages of the first edition.

'Ron, th–this is ju-just …' she paused, staring at him before letting out an excited squeal and jumping him around his neck while kissing him firmly on his cheeks. The flowers landed on the kitchen table.

'Like it?' he said, grinning.

'I love it,' she corrected happily. 'But it must have cost you a fortune.'

'So what … I've too much money anyway,' he responded, shrugging. 'Don't think about not accepting it,' he added when he saw her face and the motion she was about to make with her hand. 'I never took Arithmancy, which means I've absolutely no use for that book other than heating my flat with it.'

Hermione gasped and folded her arms around the book to protect it from harm.

Ron let out a laugh and picked up the potion bottle on the bar to glance at the label. 'Yuck, Wriggle's Concoction. You know I hate to be the one to say it, but Snape's Painkiller Potion is far more effective and less revolting than this draught.'

'I ran out of his potion,' Hermione responded offhandedly. 'But this one is working fine. I'm already feeling a whole lot better.' She skipped through the leaves of the book, interested.

Ron rummaged through her cabinets and picked out a high, glass vase to put the flowers in, filling it with water with a flick of his wand. 'Where do you want it?'

'The kitchen table is fine,' Hermione said, glancing to the door questioningly. 'Vik?'

She looked back at Ron, who shrugged. 'Maybe he went to the loo,' Ron suggested, not at all sorry Krum wasn't there yet.

'Maybe …' Hermione concurred, placing the medieval Arithmancy book carefully on one of the bookshelves. 'Can I get you some coffee?'

'I'd love some. Have you heard anything from Harry yet?' Ron asked cautiously.

Hermione wanted to deny seeing Harry, but to her surprise something else came out of her mouth. 'I spoke with him this afternoon.'

'Has he said anything …?' Ron halted, because Krum entered the room.

'Ron gave me Wenlock's book,' Hermione said cheerfully to Viktor.

'And she has refrained herself from immediately pretending we are not here and diving into it at once,' Ron said humorously.

'That is a miracle on its own,' Tom responded in kind.

'I thought so, too.'

'Are you two done making fun of me?' Hermione asked with a smile and handed Ron his coffee when the doorbell rang again.

A flash of annoyance flew across Krum's bearded face, making Hermione quirk an eyebrow at him questioningly. She knew why she hadn't wanted any company, but why he was in such a bad mood was beyond her.

'I got it! I got it! I got it!' Rose yelled, running down the stairs.

'I think she's got it,' Ron repeated, smiling.

'How's your headache?' Tom asked Hermione, sitting down in the armchair next to the hearth.

'Much better,' Hermione responded and slouched into the couch.

Excited voices chattered in the hall, and a few seconds later, Rose was accompanied by Ginny and several Potter children into the living room.

'Uncle Ron! I didn't know you were here too,' Rose squeaked and ran into Ron's arms.

'Eh, little one.'

'I'm not little.'

Soon, Ron was swarmed by four children, who all wanted to know if he'd brought anything from the shop with him today.

'Hi everyone, Hermione. How have you been?' Ginny asked.

'Dreadful,' Hermione responded; her eyes widened, she couldn't believe she just blurted that out.

Ginny sent her an understanding expression and gave her a hug.

Slowly, Tom sank a bit further into the armchair he had positioned himself him. _Fucking grand central station_, he thought to himself, watching the clock on the wall somewhat apprehensively. Still, if push came to shove, he would just hex everyone present. However, he'd rather keep his illegal activities a secret for somewhat longer if possible, so he decided to wait and see if he could sit it out.

'I won't be long,' Ginny said to Hermione. 'Harry told me you had a headache. So I thought maybe it would be a good idea if Rose joined us for dinner? We're going to the new pancake restaurant in town.'

'Can I, Mummy? Can I?' Rose asked, bouncing on her feet.

'Sure,' Hermione said.

'Yay!'

'We can go see the animals at the petting zoo too,' Lily informed Rose.

'Thanks,' Hermione whispered to Ginny.

'You're welcome,' Ginny whispered back. 'Does the girl fly or is she more like her mother?' she teased.

'Eh!' Hermione objected resentfully, crossing her arms and glaring at her friend. 'I can fly … Just because I am not all that crazy about Quidditch like you lot doesn't mean I can't fly. I just don't fancy doing it, because I hate heights and it's uncomfortable. And I fail to see the point of flying for an accomplished witch or wizard anyway. Flying is for people who can't perform Apparition correctly and want to hide their abysmal skills from the rest of the world,' Hermione ranted, wanting to slap her hand in front of her big mouth afterwards.

Why did she say something this insulting to her friends when Ginny had just offered to help her out? She couldn't believe she just added that last bit _with_ two ex-professional Quidditch players in the room. Viktor seemed to find it funny, because she saw him grinning from ear to ear. Somewhat apprehensively, she glanced sideways to Ginny. To her relief, Ginny didn't seem mad or insulted – she was merely sending Hermione a teasing, mocking smirk.

'So Rose?' Ginny asked, her eyes twinkling mischievously. 'Can you fly?'

'I have a broom,' Rose said cheerfully. 'I'll get it. It's in the cupboard in the hall.'

'Daddy's little girl then,' Ginny decided, winking to Viktor. 'All right, let's go. James … we don't want to keep your father waiting.'

'Yes, Mum,' James said, fumbling in his pocket. 'Bye, Uncle Ron.'

Ginny glared at her brother, while her children ran outdoors. 'What did you just hand my illustrious son, Ron?'

'Nothing dear,' Ron said innocently.

Everyone in the room could see he was lying. Ron made a feeble attempt to try to distract them from the topic at hand by turning his attention to the Quidditch Today magazine on the table.

'Chudley Cannons!' he said, excited, and showed Ginny the cover before diving behind the magazine.

He didn't fool his sister. Ginny turned to Hermione, pointing with her hand to Ron. 'See how his ears are turning red? It most certainly is a mystery to me how he landed himself a job as an Unspeakable. What do you think, Hermione?'

'I couldn't agree more,' Hermione blurted out.

'Eh! I am not stupid,' Ron claimed, looking up from the magazine.

'Whatever you say, bro,' Ginny replied offhandedly. 'But the bill will be for you if James pulls something tonight,' she added warningly, walking to the hall when Rose passed with her broom in hand.

'Rose!' Hermione shouted.

The girl took a couple of steps back till she stood in full view of everyone in the living room.

'Aren't you going to say goodbye to your father and me?' Hermione said admonishingly.

'Sorry, Mum,' Rose said, placing the broom against the wall.

She gave Hermione a kiss before running to her father. Tom sank even further down into the armchair in shock. Nobody saw the ridiculous situation that followed. Hermione didn't, because she continued to show Ginny out. Ron missed it too, because he was skipping through the magazine, trying to find the article on his favourite team. Rose jumped her now thoroughly petrified father around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.

'Bye, Daddy,' she said, waiting expectantly while holding onto his neck with her arms.

Tom didn't move an inch. He had completely stiffened up.

'Daddy?' Rose asked, frowning.

No, no, no. That was the wrong word for anyone to say to him. He couldn't be a father, he just couldn't be. He looked at the now confused girl next to his chair. She really was the spitting image of her mother. See, she was Hermione's, not his. He had nothing to do with the matter.

'What is it?' he asked awkwardly.

'Don't I get a kiss too?' Rose asked, holding up her cheek.

'Oh, I–I … ermm …' Tom mumbled distraught.

He knew he had to get a grip of himself quickly or someone would notice his behaviour was odd. And for crying out loud, it wasn't like he had never kissed a girl before. He kissed lots and lots of them. But they were all normal girls not little, whiny, annoying, crying things that ... that couldn't possibly be his. Impossible, she was five! He hadn't been with Hermione nine months prior to that. He was seeing things that weren't there. There had been no snake in the hall and the kid was not a Parselmouth. She couldn't be. No, she definitely was not. If Lord Voldemort decided something was not the case, then it simply wasn't. His fingers delved deep in the chair's armrest and his breathing was becoming erratic.

'Daddy? Are you alright?' Rose asked quietly.

This made Ron look up from his magazine. The move jolted Tom out of his frantic thoughts and he swiftly kissed his daughter on the cheek.

'Of course I am fine. Off you go,' he ordered. 'You wouldn't want to keep Po–your uncle Harry waiting.'

But the girl didn't let go of his neck and continued to stare at him. 'Tyra said there was something funny about you,' Rose said slowly.

Tom stared back impassively, his hand ready to draw his wand. 'I think,' he whispered, leaning towards Rose's ear, 'that I may have caught a cold. I'm not feeling very well.'

Rose's eyes went wide, and to his utter relief, she finally let go of his neck. 'Then you need Pepperup Potion. I'll go get it for you, and then, you will feel all better again.'

Rose skipped to the cupboard in the hall to get the potion.

'Tyra?' Ron asked, puzzled.

'Imaginary friend,' Tom grunted.

'Oh, I remember those. They can be very annoying. Ginny had one when she was five too,' Ron grinned.

'Rose? What are you doing? People are waiting for you,' Hermione asked, standing next to Ginny by the frontdoor.

'Daddy has a cold,' Rose stated matter-of-factly, pulling out the Potions box. 'He needs Pepperup Potion. And he needs me to bring him that.'

The girl ran to her mother and held out the box she retrieved from the cupboard. Ginny smiled and winked to Hermione, indicating she had all the time in the world. Hermione waved her wand at the box, opening it up. 'All right dear, but hurry up,' she said, handing Rose the vial of Pepperup Potion.

Rose darted back into the living room and handed her father the potion quickly. 'Now, you will feel all better again,' she said certainly.

'Yes, I will,' Tom replied smiling, holding the vial in his hand, waiting for the girl to leave.

But Rose folded her arms over each other determined and her eyes darted between the vial and him expectantly. 'Take it,' she added bossily.

Ron dove completely behind the magazine to hide his glee. He could truly understand Viktor didn't want to drink the potion and experience the rather unpleasant effects for the mere hint of a cold. But from the look on Rose's face, he had a feeling the poor man had no other choice. Well, that's what you get when you tell children they need to take something disgusting if they are sick. You have to set a good example yourself, too. Suddenly, steam flew across the room and a brief glance over his magazine showed Ron Viktor's face had turned a deep red colour. Ron snickered.

'Now, you are all better,' Rose said cheerfully.

'Yes,' Tom responded, steam still flying from his ears.

To Tom's utter relief, that was it and Rose ran back to the hall. Loads and loads of chattering as well as the ruffling of coats indicated they were finally leaving. Now, all he had to do was: get rid of Weasley one way or the other, because he was beginning to run out of time. The Polyjuice Potion only worked for a limited amount of time, and his hour was nearly up. It was a good thing he knew just the way to make Weasley run for the hills. He leaned over towards the still grinning Ron.

'Look, I don't want to be rude, but umm … do you mind leaving?' Tom asked. 'You see, I had this surprise planned for Hermione tonight and … well, it doesn't exactly work with company, if you get my drift.'

He wiggled his thick eyebrows deviously and winked suggestively at Weasley. If this didn't get him to leave, he would have no other choice but to send the redhead home between six boards of wood.

'Oh, uhhh … I am sorry. I had no idea you were planning something,' Ron muttered apologetically, his face burning up while he placed the magazine back on the table.

'No harm done, feel free to stop by tomorrow. We should be done then,' Tom added viciously, upon noticing the discomfort his implication had caused in the other wizard.

That made Ron's ears turn red again.

The frontdoor slammed shut and Tom leaned back satisfied when Ron got out of his chair to leave. Hermione nearly entered the living room when the doorbell rang again. She sighed and turned around.

'Oh for crying out loud,' Tom muttered, raising his hands in the air in surrender.

'Do you need me to kick whoever that is out?' Ron grinned.

'I'll be forever in your debt if you can,' Tom grumbled, sighing. Why did the entire world decide to drop by Hermione's house on the very evening he'd planned to question her?

'-despite that Elizabeth may be working with Vlad's say-so,' Sunny explained, her head turned to Hermione who walked behind her with a serious frown on her face. The tall, white-haired vampire was a long way into the living room before she saw the others and stopped telling Hermione what she'd uncovered. 'Oh hello, Viktor and …?'

'My friend, Ron Weasley,' Hermione explained, introducing them to each other. 'Ron, this is Sheila Holmes, but she prefers to be called Sunny.'

Ron and Sunny shook hands. 'Nice to meet you, Mr. Weasley.'

'Please call me Ron. Whenever someone calls me Mr. Weasley, I tend to look around for my father.'

Sunny smiled. 'Ron works fine for me. Good to see you again, Viktor.'

'Sunny,' Tom said, nodding his head courteously.

'I think I may have an opening in my schedule tomorrow,' Hermione said to the vampire, picking up her agenda and flipping the leaves.

'We'll need some time to execute … _it_,' Sunny replied, glancing at Ron, not noticing that Viktor watched the exchange between Hermione and her with a bit too much interest.

'I know,' Hermione responded, distracted. 'Have you figured out Capet's angle already?'

'Well, I probably can guess what he is up to, but I sent Ricky over to France to investigate that for me and be certain. Capet is much more vulnerable to his pretty face than mine.'

'Your pretty face?' Hermione snorted. 'Perhaps if you stopped being mental and stayed out of the sun once in awhile, it would become pretty again?'

Abruptly, her cheeks flushed. She didn't say that out loud, did she?

Sunny roared with laughter and slapped her on the back. 'That's why all vampires love you, Granger. You speak what's on your mind, just like us. You really should become one.'

'Been there, done that,' Hermione muttered offhandedly. 'Should two hours in the evening be enough?'

'It should be,' Sunny said, glancing at the opening in time. 'If Vlad can't make it tomorrow, I'll reschedule us for Sunday?'

Tom frowned briefly before his face turned utterly blank again. Ron just looked confused at the two women.

Hermione nodded. 'That's fine by me, but not in the middle of the night.'

Sunny grinned and slapped her chest. 'Me, do something in the middle of the night and miss out on the chance to have the sun shine down on my delicate complexion?'

Hermione tilted her head, amused. 'Funny, Sunny.'

'I'll see you then,' Sunny said cheerfully. 'Don't forget to bring your blades.'

'Trust me, I won't,' Hermione muttered, throwing the agenda on the table.

'Viktor, Ron,' Sunny nodded.

'Bye, Sunny,' Tom replied.

'I'll go with you,' Ron quickly added.

'Oh?' Hermione uttered, surprised. 'You just got here.'

'Yeah, I still have a … things to do,' Ron said apologetically and kissed her goodbye.

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Things … right. What is her name this time?'

Ron shrugged.

'Ronald Bilius Weasley, don't tell me you forgot the name of the girl you are dating,' Hermione reprimanded.

'It was something with an A, I think,' he said, uncertain. 'Anne?'

Sunny chuckled.

'You really are the catch of the century, Ronald,' Hermione said sarcastically, placing her hands on her hips. 'Not knowing the name.' She shook her head as she showed them out the door.

Tom sighed when they all left. His eyes darted to the clock. Not one minute too soon. He heard Sunny flit away with vampire speed and was waiting for the Apparition crack from Weasley, but to his annoyance, Ron raced back into the living room and picked up the Quidditch magazine.

'You mind if I borrow this?'

'Not at all,' Tom replied, his fingers tapping impatiently on the chair's armrest in a rhythmic motion.

Wishing Weasley would bugger off, Tom looked at the clock on the wall again when he felt a pair of eyes burning into him. He pulled his attention away and looked to the doorway past the redhead. There stood Hermione. She was clearly staring at the motion he was making with his hand. His fingers froze, realising what he had done too late. For what looked like an eternity, their eyes locked. Until Hermione moved.

'Look out!' she shouted to Ron and whipped out her wand.

Baffled, Ron stood still like a statue when Hermione's curse flew by him and blasted the chair Tom vacated in a hurry to pieces. Tom rolled over the table, whipping out his wand in the process. He aimed.

'Ron, move!' Hermione yelled desperately at the human obstacle standing between the two duellers.

Ron turned his head to her and widened his eyes when she made a jabbing motion with her wand in his direction. He dropped to the floor, covering his head with his arms, as two spells collided above his head.

'What the fuck?' Ron swore.

Sparks began to fly all around him as the curses were unable to come to completion. The air turned static from the sheer force of the magic. Crawling away on his belly to get out of the danger zone, he moved behind the couch and whipped out his wand. Finally, he had an excuse to hex Viktor Krum. It was something he'd been dying to do ever since his fourth year at Hogwarts.

From his new position, Ron could only see Hermione's concentrated face as she whirled around to break the connection and flung the next hex into her husband's direction. A gonglike sound filled the room and Hermione Apparated away just before the wall behind her got blasted to smithereens by what must have been Viktor's curse.

What the bloody hell was going on?

Furious at seeing such a violent curse almost hitting his friend, Ron rolled to the other side of the couch, slashed his wand into the direction of where he was expecting to see the bearded face of Viktor, and got the shock of a lifetime when his curse hurtled towards Tom Riddle.

'Fuck!' Ron cursed, wide-eyed.

Amused, Riddle smirked as he lazily waved Ron's curse right back at him.

'_Protego!_' Ron cast.

The gonglike sound of his own curse smashing into his shield was deafened by Hermione's Apparition. She appeared on top of the bar, sending out a flare of bluebell flames directly at the table Riddle was standing on, simultaneously making a backflip to land behind the bar for cover. Just in a nick of time, because the red dash that flew over her head did some very destructive things to the cabinets behind her.

Her bluebell flames burst into a roaring fire around Tom.

'_Aguamenti!_'

To his horror, it was as if he put oil on the fire. The flames rose in one violent burst. Quickly, he Disapparated to safety.

Hermione ran from her hideout behind the bar when she heard the crack of Riddle's Disapparation. Ron squatted, his back against the couch and his wand raised. 'Hermione …?'

'Hush!' she hissed warningly, pointing to the door silently with her wand.

Ron shook his head. 'I'm not leaving,' he hissed underneath his breath.

Emphasising her resolve, she nodded in the door's direction again. 'Go.'

'Forget it,' he added, glaring back with equal resolve.

'You're in my wa–'

Crack.

In a reflex, Hermione made a short stabbing motion in the direction of the sound, swirling out of the way of Tom's curse. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw who and what had Apparated back into the living room. Ron screamed in terror when Tyra struck. The snake's fangs landed in his silvery shield with a crash. Tyra flipped her tail into his shield with all the force she could muster, and Ron flew through the living room, smashing into the kitchen cabinets before plummeting to the ground. Riddle whirled his wand around, catching Hermione's invisible knives. They whirled around his body before he flung them back to her. She dove to the ground behind the armchair to evade the blades, and Ron shrieked when he had to duck again as their invisible tips dug into the cabinet above his head.

'_Protego!_' Ron yelled panicky, because Tyra struck again.

The snake fangs collided with the silvery shield over and over again. Ron needed all his concentration to keep his Shield Charm active.

'Tyra, don't!' Hermione yelled.

To no avail. Tyra wasn't listening to her anymore.

The chair Hermione hid behind suddenly levitated away. An unknown curse raced toward her. Not knowing what it was and therefore being limited in her reactions, she quickly chose to divert its path and sent it at the snake. It smashed into the Protective Charm Riddle cast around Tyra and Tom had to swirl out of the jinx's path Hermione had already sent his way while he was busy casting. It tore the curtains behind him to shreds. Simultaneously, they cast their next spells towards each other. The two collided, causing the room to fill with green and red lightning sparks.

'Interesting choice of curses, darling!' Tom yelled above the noise, holding the connection. 'If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've been catching up on your Dark Arts knowledge.'

Hermione responded by twirling her wand around and casting a second curse through the already existing connection. Tom's eyes widened when the curse she cast obliterated the two already in play. Quickly, he broke the connection and dove to floor. The wall behind him blasted apart.

'Dark enough for you, honey?' Hermione retorted with a mockingly bow.

Shocked, she ducked when she saw the orange jet fly towards her. It soared over her head with a vicious snarl.

'_Impedimenta!_' Hermione cast into the direction where Tom should be.

She heard his Apparition crack and Disapparated herself immediately. Both of them reappeared at the other's last known position. Riddle smirked viciously, slashing his wand … in Ron's direction!

Ron's eyes widened, but he had no room to manoeuvre while being cornered by a humungous cobra. His only hope was that his shield would hold.

It didn't.

Riddle's curse obliterated Ron's silvery shield and struck him dead on in the chest. For a second, it was like he was okay, then, his eyes turned glassy. Ron tumbled to the floor, unmoving, defenceless. Tyra struck. Her fangs clamped in one of Godric's Wards. Recognising the curse by Tom's wandmovements, Hermione'd been just in time with her casting to prevent the snake from reaching Ron.

'Quick thinking, Granger,' Tom complimented, throwing a jinx at her. 'Though, you should have thought of that before Weasley was incapacitated.'

Hermione blocked the jinx effortlessly and returned the favour. Her black plume of smoke engulfed Tom entirely. A snort left her lips as the cloud of smoke twirled and twisted into every direction, indicating that Tom was struggling to regain his orientation and find some way to breathe. Lazily, she strolled around the room and flicked her wand one more time. The red dash sped inside the smoky environment. A crash sounded. Tom undoubtedly had been thrown into the wall behind him, smoke still following him around, attaching itself to his body like superglue. Triumphant, Hermione twirled her wand through her fingers.

'Who says I need help?' she stated arrogantly, flashing her wand again.

Tom screamed in pain when her curse struck him down.

'I think I got …' Hermione started.

A terrifying scream left her lips and she clutched to her head in sheer agony. It felt like her brain was being ripped apart at the seams. Everything danced. She closed her eyes. Still, the world was swirling and she saw nothing but smoke. She couldn't breathe. A wand circled above her head. A spell was cast. Hermione blinked when the nasty sensations subsided abruptly. Yellow light headed toward her. She ducked subconsciously. And … the curse struck the liquor cabinet behind her. Hermione half-turned when rumbling sounds followed. Shrieking in fright, she clung to her wand when the piece of furniture and its contents attacked her. Several bottles swung through the air, hitting her to the ground.

'_Reducto!_' she cast, falling on her behind painfully.

The cabinet and bottles were blown away as she just avoided the back of her skull from coming in contact with the ground hard.

Crack.

Tom Riddle Apparated right above her, his feet placed on either side of her hips. It made her unable to roll out of the way of the Disarmament Charm that he cast immediately. The short distance between them lessened her response time significantly, and to her horror, she felt her wand slip from her fingers. Triumph flew across Riddle's face when he caught it in his wandhand. Smirking, he pointed both wands firmly towards her chest. Hermione was leaning on her elbows, desperately thinking of a solution to the predicament she was in.

'How nice of you to lie down at my feet where you belong, sweetheart,' Riddle sneered, towering above her.

The solution presented itself with his demeaning comment.

Hermione's eyes flashed red. Tilting her head, she smiled sweetly as she raised her leg to kick him hard in a very sensitive area. All those years of physical combat training with Vishna certainly paid of beautifully as Tom tumbled down on top of her with a cry of pain. Quickly, Hermione found his wandhand, which was still holding onto the two wands tightly. She tried to yank them away, but was unsuccessful. Her attempts caused Tom to realise he needed to do something fast. His free hand grabbed her other wrist and his legs boxed her in, pinning her down beneath his body, while he moved his wandhand to get a clear shot of her.

Knowing she had no possibility to move out of the way of anything he would cast, Hermione did the only thing she could think of. She grabbed a firm hold of the other end of the two wands and cast a Stunner **at** the same time Tom tried to curse her. The effect of this unusual situation was baffling. A bright flash blinded her. A massive surge of power soared through her system, causing all her muscles to cramp severely. Hermione could tell the same thing happened to Tom, because she felt his grip around her wrist tighten like a wrench and he collapsed on top of her again, tensing up just like her. All her senses seemed to go on overload, and within seconds, she did not register anything anymore as if she existed in a dark vacuum.

The terrifying situation lasted only for a couple of seconds, but it felt like forever until a light shined at the end of the tunnel. Hermione blinked. Reality came crushing in. Her body seemed as if it had been on fire. Every single muscle hurt. Her fingers had clenched around the two wands in a manner that would require a crowbar to loosen them. Her right hand felt like it lost all blood supply to it, because Tom's hand was almost fused to the wrist next to her head. She coughed and heard someone cough right next to her ear. His short, rapid breaths brushed her neck since his face was buried inside her frizzy curls. Abruptly, Tom's head snapped up and they stared into each other's eyes, their noses a mere inch apart. Neither of them dared to cast a spell and risk the chance of the other doing the same and getting struck like that again. Tom broke the silence first.

'It seems we have a little situation here,' he said slowly.

'So it would appear,' Hermione responded evenly, not averting her eyes for a second, because she knew one brief lapse in concentration would undoubtedly result in getting hexed into oblivion.

'That was most … _unusual_. What do you suggest we do about this stalemate, Hermione?'

'Why don't you let go of the wands?' Hermione suggested sweetly.

Tom snorted. 'Fat chance, Granger. Besides, even if I wanted to, I don't think I _can_ let go.'

Hermione frowned. The feeling in her hand that was holding the wands had not returned either. Fortunately for her, it wasn't her wandhand. Still, this wasn't very good news. She was kind of fond of being able to use both hands. Tom started to move.

'Stop or …' Hermione hissed threateningly.

He halted his movements, but she was too late. He'd already been able to shift his legs into a more stable position for him, making sure he kept her contained underneath his body.

'Move one muscle again and I'll curse you,' she added forcefully, gritting her teeth.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you, Hermione,' Tom whispered against her lips. 'I will not hesitate for a second if I think you're going to cast something. I don't care how uncomfortable that occurrence just yet was.'

'Me neither,' she responded, determined.

Silently, they glared at each other, hoping to see the other drop their concentration for a fraction of a moment, so they could cast a spell. Hermione's eyes were beginning to water from concentrating so hard, but she had no intention of slipping up now. No matter how uncomfortable her situation was.

'Can you let go of my wrist?'

Tom furrowed his brow. 'Why would I want to do that? Right now I have the upper hand with you pinned down underneath me. Who knows what you'll do with that hand if I release it?'

Hermione bit her lip. 'You have my word I won't attack you with it. I'll keep my arm right there.'

Tom looked at her questionably. He knew the Veritaserum was still working, though not for much longer. Besides, there were always ways to speak the truth and still do something undesirable. She was resourceful enough to think of something.

'Please Tom,' Hermione pleaded, her face wrenched in pain, 'my arm is killing me.'

His dark eyes softened in concern. 'Don't move,' he ordered.

'I won't,' Hermione whispered, her chin quivering.

Tom stared into her deer brown eyes as he tried to loosen his grip on her wrist. He was about to focus his attention on Hermione's wrist and his hand when he realised the loophole she'd given herself. His eyes flashed red.

'Clever, Hermione,' he said harshly, 'trying to get me to focus my attention on my non-dominant hand, so you can curse me since you never promised not to attack me with the other hand.'

'Well, aren't you the observant one,' Hermione snarled, immediately dropping the act out of irritation that he saw through her plan.

'Yessss,' Tom hissed, 'I am. And I have observed all sorts of wonderful things here tonight. Care to explain how your daughter is able to speak Parseltongue?'

'No,' Hermione replied curtly.

Tom scowled, but he realised quickly he asked the question wrong. 'Who's Rose's father?'

Hermione blinked. Her obvious attempt to fight the Veritaserum was a clear indication its effects were beginning to diminish. It made Tom's temper rise through the roof. He shook her roughly. 'Answer me, damn it!'

'You are,' Hermione whispered, frightened.

Tom stared at her. An unbelievable pain spread through his chest. Why did he feel this way? He already knew the answer to that question. It wasn't a surprise anymore. He'd known the moment he saw the girl speak Parseltongue. He'd known. There was no need to panic now. Still, his breathing became heavy and erratic. He was a father? Sweet Salazar, he couldn't breathe. A tight band constricted around his chest. He needed air – some fresh air, like _now!_ The world had just turned upside down. Everything was swirling, dancing before his eyes. So … he closed them.

'_Expelliarmus!_' Hermione shouted.


	15. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's note: **I thank you all for reading and reviewing: Akito Alice Kurt Li, kelsinor0126, cranberrygrapejuice, NS, pwrmom2, Kirtash R, volleyballbitch526, Merih, ilovesiriusorionblack, patie, lilipop10122, miles, Sailor2Moon, vampirelover2009, abbelmus, OrangeSoxz, CuriosityKilledCat, VTM Potter Crazy, Ankoku Dezaia, GoldenTresses91, blindfaithoperadiva, Rosiline, sarahr85, Morbid DramaQueen10, IceAgeSurvivor123, medusaasaphoenix, Rena Katsueki, ilovenat1995, Summer Leah, Noon's Phoenix, tanzainy, shinobinaraku, Alrauna, BlueSkyHeaven.

NS: First of all thanks for your passionate review on part 1. As for your question: why we guys write sequels? Well, because we get requests for them. ;-) But the original ending is on AFFnet, the link is in my profile. "What a way to react to finding out you're a father! Silly men." – Yep, they're silly indeed. LOL Well, I hoped it help you get things done during my lack of updates. *hides*  
And you're right: time travel makes things … (zips lips).  
Indeed, she didn't have time to grieve; she has responsibilities. And don't forget she's bonded to Tom, so she's taking over some of his characteristics too. Tom, being good … er? We were talking about Tom I am Lord Voldemort Riddle, weren't we? But you never know. He's bonded to Hermione, so icky feelings as love and care are possible for him now. And we do have all the Time in the world. *wink, wink*  
It's funny you preferred reading about LV in part one, because those were the parts I enjoyed writing the most. XD  
Sorry for addicting you. So sorry. And no, I am not planning a part three. The ending won't allow one. Thank you for all your reviews.

miles: I'm glad you're happy he found out and I hope you will enjoy this chapter too.

xxx

* * *

**Masters of Manipulation: Part Two**

**Chapter 14**

'Oomph!' Tom cried out as he crashed into the couch after being blasted around the living room by her Disarmament Charm. It was one of the few pieces of furniture still standing intact after their duel.

Hermione flew to her feet as fast as she could from her previous lying position, only to notice _that_ was not a smart move. Her knees buckled, making her fall forward on her hands. A strangled groan left her lips as her knuckles bruised upon contact with the floor since her fingers were still fused around the wands.

Thinking he could take advantage of her fall, Tom rose quickly, then, also came to the conclusion that he had problems standing and dropped in the couch again. However, the fact that Hermione pointed their wands at him despite her awkward position was another factor in his decision not to try to take a step in her direction. Tom leaned back in the couch, trying to regain control over his body as Hermione did the same.

Tears sprang from her eyes as her hand started pounding severely when it suddenly received blood again, because his fingers were no longer fused around her wrist. She gritted her teeth together and started to move her fingers slowly. It hurt like hell, but eventually, she managed to move them normally again. Keeping a close eye on Tom's movements, Hermione began working on her other hand: the one that was holding onto the wands. In the end, she managed to pry the wands away from her still stiff and sore fingers. She pocketed Tom's wand while testing the feel of her own in her wandhand. She was very relieved when it felt normal. Her success in getting her arms and hands to listen to her brain again made Hermione confident enough to try to stand, and she rose cautiously. Feeble but standing just the same, she turned her full attention at Tom again. He'd been nursing his hands wandlessly and seemed to have also recovered from the experience. His pointed gaze was fully focused on her now, and the familiar, dangerous glint in his eyes unnerved Hermione thoroughly.

However, she had other problems to deal with right now: Ron and his injuries. She gave the couch Tom sat on a wide berth and moved to the redhead. Yet when she came closer, Tyra hissed at her warningly: no doubt concerned she was going to take _her_ prey. Hermione sighed and looked at Tom.

'Tell her to move out of my way,' she ordered.

With a blank expression that revealed none of his emotions, Tom looked at her before turning his head towards the King Cobra. Fluently, several words left his lips in Parseltongue. Tyra turned around, uncoiled her huge body, and raised her head in the common cobra attack mode. Hermione took a step back. Her eyes flickered between Tom and the snake, now having two adversaries to be concerned about.

'And how does this help you?' she snarled.

'I'm not in the mood to hear Weasley jab on and on and on about what he sees as my many shortcomings. It's getting old.'

Hermione's face darkened. 'I'm not going to sit by and watch him bleed to death.'

The corner of Tom's mouth curved up, like he was daring her. 'Well, you know what kind of protective spell I placed on … _Tyra._' He deliberately spoke the snake's name with emphasis. 'There is only one fast method to get past it and how will you explain that to your daughter if you succeed?' He placed his hands behind his head and leaned back in the couch as if he didn't have a single care in the world. 'Lie?' he suggested tauntingly. 'As you've obviously become prone to do.'

Ignoring his words, Hermione weighed the situation. Tyra was blocking her path, but surely, Tom wouldn't allow Tyra to bite her? He didn't want her dead. Then again, King Cobra venom would quickly incapacitate her and death wouldn't be instantaneous, giving him time to summon the antidote from her cupboard. She'd been stocking antidotes to all dangerous snakebites ever since the first sign Rose showed of being a Parselmouth. It was the responsible thing to do.

But Tom didn't know that, and it was highly doubtful he carried the antidote around in his pocket nor could he brew one in less than an hour. She'd be long dead before he was halfway done. Her eyes wandered over his leisurely posture. Would he risk it? Would he risk her not having the antidote on hand? She bit her lip. He knew her well enough to know she wouldn't allow a dangerous animal to live in her house if she couldn't act when something went terribly wrong. What had she said about the snake to him when she still thought he was Viktor? That it wasn't staying. It was only natural to assume it wasn't with them long and chances were she wouldn't have…

A sigh left her lips. It was pointless to consider whether or not Tom would allow Tyra to attack her. She had to get to Ron. She knew what kind of curse had struck him down. Time was running out. Hermione stepped sideways, watching the snake move its head to follow her movements. If she could get to the bar and slowly move over it, she could approach Ron from the other side. From the corner of her eye, she took note that the human snake on the couch was also taking great interest in her actions. The unbelievable prick.

Cautiously, Hermione levitated herself into a seated position on the bar. Resting with her back against the wall, she planned to move over it when Tom hissed something. Tyra struck abruptly, plunging her huge body on top of the bar as well. Hermione's shield was up in a nick of time and the sharp fangs bounced off of it. Noticing her fangs couldn't reach their target, the snake twirled around, swooshed its long tail into her silvery shield and launched her across the room. She flew past Tom in a high arc and the Shield Charm she had cast prevented her from sustaining severe injuries as she crashed into the wall with her right shoulder and tumbled to the ground on her knees. Feeling incredibly stupid, she rubbed over her injured shoulders and checked her other limbs carefully. She was bound to be black and blue for the next couple of days.

Angry hissing noises from Tyra, who settled herself strategically on the bar, filled the room along with a soft chuckle that infuriated her. Snapping her head in his direction, she raised her wand to him. He was still holding that ridiculously comfortable pose, like he could care less. He hadn't even tried to take advantage of her situation as if he already had the upper hand. The utter arrogance – did he really think she'd do nothing if he kept provoking her like that? And her shoulder hurt. Her eyes flashed red as she contemplated on all the lovely curses she could use on him. Why should she be the only one in pain here?

'If you know what's good for you, you'll tell her to move away … _**now**_.'

His chuckle turned in a mocking smirk and he slid a bit further down into the seat, stretching out his long legs and crossing his ankles. It was such an obvious dare that her wrist moved at the same time his mouth opened. The tip of her wand lit up, yet she was able to withhold the curse. For now. Depending on what would come out of that lying mouth of his.

'Going to curse me, darling? How delightfully dark of you.'

'If Ron dies, I'll do a hell of a lot worse.'

'Hmmm…' Tom lowered his hands from behind his head and clasped them in his lap. 'I have no beef with Weaselbee as of now.' He paused, seemingly contemplating on the situation at hand before shrugging. 'I really couldn't care less if he lives or dies.'

Hermione narrowed her eyes at hearing this.

'I do, however,' Tom continued, unabashed, ignoring the furious glare she was sending his way, 'prefer not having to listen to his cries of moral outrage. Therefore, I suggest we make a deal.'

'A deal,' she snarled.

'Yes, a deal,' he repeated cheerfully.

'You're no position to demand deals.'

'The Protective Charm I cast on Tyra says I am. And may I remind you that while we're exchanging all these wonderful words, Weasley's time is almost up?'

'Fine,' Hermione snapped. 'I'm listening.'

'If you'll only heal Weasley and not wake him, I'll tell Tyra to let you pass.'

Hermione glanced from the snake to Ron's still unmoving body. It would be the fastest way she could get to him. Only there had to be a catch. A catch she failed to see. Crap.

'Deal,' she grudgingly said.

'Excellent,' Tom said cheerfully. He turned his head to the snake and told it what to do.

Tyra lowered her head, slithered from the bar to the hall, and coiled her massive body in the doorway, which was a very conveniently strategic position. It raised Hermione's suspicions. Unfortunately, she had no time to contemplate on what Tom could be plotting. Now the snake was no longer blocking her full view, she saw the true extend of the wounds on Ron's body. A loud swearword left her lips as she ran to him, throwing all caution in the wind. She knelt down beside his body and started to trace the wounds with her wand, chanting in a sing-song voice. His face was far too pale; she was worried she'd be too late.

'Don't even think about it,' she hissed when she saw Tom move from the peripheral vision of her eye.

'Just checking if you were paying attention, dear,' he smoothly spoke, resting back lazily.

Hermione continued chanting frantically, wiping away the residue of blood after each turn. When his wounds were finally healed, she checked his vitals. Satisfied Ron was going to be all right, she conjured a pillow underneath his head and placed a blanket on top of him to make sure he'd remain comfortable and warm. As she wiped her forehead, she smiled upon noticing his cheeks seemed to gain a healthier colour. He'd be fine. She'd been on time. Thank Merlin, she'd no idea what she would do if he died on her.

Well, besides hurting the moron responsible for it.

She turned her head and said moron was observing her open display of affection towards Ron Weasley with his face set in an impassive mask that told her more than any blatant outward show of emotion would have. Quickly, she rose. There was no need to trigger Tom in this area. Ron was her friend, her best friend, nothing more. Fortunately, Tom had no wand, ensuring Ron's safety for now. Still, she had to consider the future.

'He's just my friend,' she explained quietly.

'I see,' he said slowly.

That didn't reassure her one bit.

'I care for my friends,' she added_, _hoping to get some sign he'd leave Ron alone.

'Yes, I've come to know all about how much you care for everybody else,' he sneered, turning away from her.

His words stung viciously at her heart. She cared about him too, probably more than was wise, otherwise she would have permanently dealt with the mess he'd created a long, long time ago. And he knew. He bloody well knew she loved him. How dare he imply otherwise?

_Because you hid from him, concealed he had a daughter, and married another, _a voice in the back of her mind reminded her.

Hermione swallowed in order to remove the lump in her throat. It returned with a vengeance, because she did feel guilty. She tried to shove that pang of guilt away. This wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation. She had to keep it together. She'd had a good reason for making those choices. A very good reason. And it had nothing to do with her love for him.

'I …' she faltered, staring at the back of his head, not knowing what to say since whatever she said would sound contrived right now.

The silence between them wasn't comfortable. It was tense, filled with the hurt feelings of both parties present.

'How old is Rose?' Tom asked quietly. He turned to look over his shoulder at her again. 'She can't be five. We weren't together then.'

'Seven.'

Tom furrowed his brow. 'Seven,' he repeated softly. 'She's … a bit short for her age. You're giving her something.'

'A Growth Halting Potion.'

He turned away upon her admission but didn't comment on the potion's use as Viktor had done. Still, by what she could see of his profile, she knew enough. His jaw was set in a way that made his features seem harsh, cold and uncaring, which was a sure sign that inside his emotions were whirling like a volcano waiting to erupt. She didn't need to feel it to know it. This was the quietness before the storm. Best to get it over with as soon as possible.

Cautiously, Hermione walked around the couch, waving her wand at the fragments of one of the armchairs to repair it. It reassembled with a couple of clicks and she positioned it in front of him at a safe distance before sitting down in it. She wanted to have him in plain sight for the rest of this conversation instead of watching the back of his head, unable to see his every expression. The hard stare she received made her fidget in her seat. Subconsciously, she tightened the grip on her wand.

'I suppose I can stop giving her that,' she added merely to break the tense silence. 'There is no point to it anymore.'

'Only if I'm the only one you're trying to hide her true heritage from.'

She hadn't thought about that. Frowning, she looked down. She was running for office. A sudden–

'Lies tend to pile up, don't they?' he sneered. 'You start with one, but by the time you come clean with me, you find they've already buried you.'

'Stated by the expert on the matter.'

'I never lied to you.'

She sniffed humourlessly and shook her head. 'That was one. Are you sure you want to keep score with me on this, Tom?' she asked sharply.

He leaned forward and glared at her. 'Rose is my daughter,' he hissed furiously, his eyes burning in a deep shade of red. 'That was _your_ lie. Don't you make this about me, Granger. Don't you dare,' he spat.

Subconsciously, his hands balled into fists as he spoke that last sentence. Hermione sat frozen in her seat – never before had she been the target of a fury like this. He'd been angry with her before. She'd been able to handle that, even though Lord Voldemort's idea of angry would be another's idea of incensed, enraged, and livid: a crazed kind of madness. No, this anger was something altogether different. This, she'd not seen directed at her before. This was a type of fury that would eventually result in her cold, dead body: slowly and painfully. He wanted to hurt her – she could see that desire in his eyes – hurt her in every way imaginable, and maybe some unimaginable methods too. She knew this anger of his inside out. There had been a few times when she had felt it herself, and even worse, she had acted upon this anger. What she'd done then was still something she didn't want to revisit. But she was nowhere near as creative and skilled in the Dark Arts as he was. To say she was scared would be the understatement of the year. Hermione was very glad he didn't have a wand at his disposal.

'Lost your tongue?'

The knuckles on her wandhand turned white, so hard was she clutching on the wood. Every muscle in her body was tense. Her whole system operated on high alert. It was flight or fight and she was tired of running. She was tired. Her muscles relaxed when the realisation struck her. She'd had enough. This anger was his problem, not hers. It was his. Alas. And as she looked at him, she couldn't feel anything anymore but sadness: a deep profound sadness. Such a waste. Such an utter and total waste of so much potential, it was a shame.

'What do you want me to say?'

'Oh, I don't know,' he sneered. 'Sorry perhaps?' He looked at her contemplatively. 'But you're not sorry, are you? Maybe about getting caught, but not about keeping this a secret. It's obvious from your reactions.' He turned his head away from her and breathed in deeply a couple of times, trying to control his temper.

She sighed. 'I'm–'

'I really don't have patience right now to listen to any more lies or unmeant excuses; so, don't bother, Hermione,' he interrupted her coldly.

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but he raised his hand, silencing her.

'I'm this close,' –he put his thumb and index finger a hair width apart– 'to doing something we both can't live with. So, I'll advise you again: don't bother, Hermione, for our sake.'

Quietly, Hermione placed her face in the palm of her free hand. She was no longer looking at him; she was staring into thin air, processing his words. After a while, she met his red eyes.

'Then I ask you again: What do you want me to say?'

His gaze intensified. Yet, she held her ground – calmly. Brown versus red. The danger was still there; only to her, the sting had been removed a while ago. She wasn't afraid anymore. She knew the explosion was inevitable. All that was left was this quiet acquiescence of their current situation. Talk or violence: he had to decide where he wanted to go from here. She was ready either way.

'Help me calm down, Hermione.'

She raised her eyebrows. Even if she would've had a clue how to go about achieving that feat given their current state of relationship – and she hadn't – she wasn't sure calmer was the right way to go for him. Calmer meant deadlier in his case. Calmer meant exponentially more dangerous. Calmer meant he was in full control of his anger instead of actually having it subside like it would do with normal people. She didn't want him to be in full control of that kind of fury. She couldn't take him if he was in full control: wand or no wand.

'Talk to me. Tell me something about Rose. It will make me focus on facts. Where and when was she born?'

Facts? No, she couldn't have him act rationally. Then again, telling him this fact would most likely push him over the edge. Hermione bit her lip. She wasn't looking forward to this.

'You owe me that much, Hermione.'

Yeah, she knew that. Still, this was the equivalent of yanking the tail of a dragon and praying it wouldn't fry you. Not a smart thing to do. Yet, she knew it had to be done. He had to really vent his anger or it would burn her to a crisp once he calmed down. This wouldn't be pretty. She nodded and some of the tension left Tom's body when she started talking.

'Rose was born in Aveiro, Portugal, and you already know when. I'm sure you saw her forged birth certificate at some point?' She watched him nod. 'I only changed the year. The day and month are the same.' And she held her breath, waiting.

'Thirty-first of October two-thousand-and …' Tom stopped talking.

It turned eerily quiet. The little tension that had left him returned with a vengeance. He'd done the math and put two and two together. She recalled that time as being the two longest months of her life. He'd probably have a different view on it. Keeping a firm grip on her wand, Hermione waited for the inevitable outburst. She didn't have to wait long.

'You were two months pregnant when you filed for divorce!'

Furious, he jumped to his feet. His magic lashed out, whirling unfocused around his body, creating static in the air as it dispersed quickly.

'Stay right there, Tom,' Hermione warned, raising her wand calmly at him.

'Did you know?' he yelled, taking a step in her direction and clenching his fists.

The order his brain sent to his fingers to make them move also directed some of his magic there. She could tell by the way his magical powers increased in one area. It no longer dispersed around the entire room, but hung around his hands, stinging her body even at this distance. She couldn't let this situation continue. Unfocused magic was not a problem, focused was. Focused magic could cause serious damage in the state he was in.

'I'm not warning you again,' Hermione threatened – ready to blast him into oblivion. 'Stand back.'

Abruptly, he swirled away and kicked a fragment of the trashed liquor cabinet across the room violently. It disintegrated with the burst of magic that accompanied his kick. Hermione flinched and her wandhand twitched, but she held back the curse when he paced farther away from her. She didn't say a word as he moved to and fro, kicking several items that lay in his path to relieve his anger. Hermione could tell it wasn't helping. It was obvious from the way his magic kept turning the things he struck into ashes.

'You knew … you must have known,' he hissed, facing her again with scarlet eyes.

'Yes, I knew,' Hermione said casually, draping her arm around the chair lazily all the while keeping her wand pointed at him.

'You bitch!' Tom hollered. 'It wasn't bad enough that you had to break up our marriage without a single explanation to me! Or that you just left without a word of goodbye, severing our connection so I couldn't find you! Nicking that bracelet so I couldn't complete the set! Did you fuck me that night knowing you would leave in the morning! With my unborn child?'

He grabbed a vase and smashed it against the wall. Not even wanting to hear the answer. A potted plant followed quickly, and he swirled his head around looking for something else to destroy, but the bar was otherwise emptied out already and the bookcase along with its contents that had miraculously survived the duelling intact was not something he felt comfortable in ruining.

'I have some plates in the lower cabinets if you need to trash some more stuff,' Hermione said blankly.

Tom swirled around and faced her. His anger had reached new heights. He was beyond angry, beyond furious. He almost seemed blazing with fire through his temper. In all his ferociousness, he looked positively ready to kill. Hermione was very happy she was the only one with a wand at the moment and that their connection hadn't been re-established at the dance like before, because she didn't think it would be pleasant to feel his emotions at the moment.

Still, however dangerous, it was imperative he felt them. He had to tune into his feelings to prevent the cold sociopath from rising to the surface. If he could block his emotions from influencing his actions in the state he was in now, she was in deep trouble. She had to ride out the storm and hope for the best. Hope their bond would cause him to access emotions he gained from her. And she wasn't referring to emotions he already had: the cold kind she was showing him right now. No, he had to feel those emotions he never fully learned to value or comprehend.

'You have some plates,' he snarled and took a step in her direction. 'It's not plates I'd like to break right now, Hermione.'

'I know,' she calmly stated, tapping with her wand on the chair, 'but it's all you're getting. Take it or leave it.'

'You're enjoying this, aren't you?' he snarled, misinterpreting her demeanour.

She shook her head. 'No,' she said sadly, 'I never enjoyed any of this. I never wanted to leave you or break up our marriage, but you left me no choice.'

'I left you no choice, _**I**_!' Tom yelled, outraged. 'I've been nothing but good to you, Hermione. You can't possibly deny that. I loved you and I thought you were happy. I thought we were happy.' His voice broke halfway the sentence.

'I was,' Hermione whispered, no longer able to keep her cool as his angry mask fell off and the pain became overly visible. She wanted nothing more than to take him in her arms and take away his hurt: the hurt she'd caused. Yet, she stayed seated.

Tom stared at her astonished and threw his hands in the air hopelessly. 'Then why? Why Hermione? Was it because you became pregnant? Did you think I couldn't be a father?'

It became silent as Hermione averted her eyes and stared at the wall. She didn't think she could speak now without breaking into tears and she bit her tongue hard to divert her attention away from the emotional pain she was feeling.

'You had no right to keep this from me, Hermione. No right,' Tom said accusingly, noticing her eyes were beginning to water.

_Why is she crying? She made the decision to leave. Trying out her crocodile tears on me, no doubt. I hope she feels guilty. She deserves it for doing this to me. How could she? After everything I did for her._

'We could have talked about your reservations,' he continued reasonably, taking a step in her direction as if he planned to comfort her. He had his eyes locked on her face, but the wand she so absentmindedly held in her hand was his real target. Once he had it, he would make her pay. She'd feel ten times the pain she'd caused him to feel and maybe a bit more just for kicks. 'We could have worked things out if only you told me. You _should_ have told me.'

'I wanted to tell you, Tom,' Hermione said, wiping away the tears before she lifted her head to face him. 'I was so happy when I found out I was carrying your child, I even left the conference in Japan to go and tell you straight away.'

Tom staggered. That bit of information threw him off balance. He frowned. She wasn't lying now. Her face was an open book to him when she was emotional. 'Then why didn't you?' he whispered, almost afraid to ask.

'You have to ask?' Hermione said bitter. 'Don't tell me it slipped your mind what you were doing in Egypt behind my back?'

Tom paled. She couldn't possibly know. Nobody had been there, nobody.

'But I was there, Tom, I was,' Hermione said, guessing right on what he was thinking. 'I used one of the Mayan Concealment Charms, because I wanted to surprise you.'

The bitterness in the laugh that followed her statement wasn't a sound he was used to hear coming from her and he didn't like how that made him feel inside. He wasn't the guilty party. He wasn't.

'Guess the surprise was on me, eh.' She pointed her wand to the hall. 'Accio!' she cast.

An object flew out of the cupboard and Hermione waved her wand to Tom, diverting the object's path to him. He caught it with his eyes wide open. It was hardly recognisable, because of the Fiendfyre that had torched it, but he knew he was looking at Bastet's Sistrum Rattle.

'You destroyed it?' Tom hissed, his temper rising again.

'Yes, I destroyed it. I also destroyed Nephthys' Falcon Brooch, Nekhbet's Crown and Hathor's Menat. Any Horcrux I missed, Tom? Because I have to say I am getting a bit tired of having to destroy historical items as a result of your stupid immortality fetish.'

He threw the blackened, useless rattle to the floor furiously. 'You can be so naïve, Hermione. It's not a fetish and it's not stupid. Your feeble attempts to stop me from achieving greatness will not succeed. I'm going to–'

'Greatness in what?' Hermione shouted, furious too, and she jumped to her feet. 'In killing innocent people, so you can live forever? I couldn't believe it when I witnessed you making one of those horrific things again. I wished I'd come sooner, then I could have prevented that poor bloke from dying for your selfish actions.'

'He was a useless beggar, drunk and disorderly. I did him a favour by killing him. Believe me, Hermione, nobody misses the likes of him. At least now he served a greater purpose.'

Appalled, Hermione stared at him. 'Do you even hear what you're saying? Who do you think you are that gives you the right to judge other people's worthiness to live? Greater purpose,' she spat, disgusted. 'Don't you realise what making those foul things does to you? How badly you maim your soul with the creation of them? You seek immortality by destroying that inside of you that could grant you your wish.'

'Oh please, spare me the Muggle religions' foolish concept of an afterlife,' Tom sneered.

'It's not just Muggles who believe, Tom. Have you ever tried to look at the veil for once? Examined the runes on the archway for their meaning? Or were you too scared to go near it?'

Tom snorted haughtily. 'I'm looking for ways to conquer death, Hermione. It doesn't scare me, for I know I will prevail in the end.'

Hermione glanced at him pitifully. 'Just keep on deluding yourself, Tom. I know how much death terrifies you. It's the only reason I was willing to help you obtain those items, so you could reach immortality through the Ankh of Isis,' she said softly. 'I tried to help you find them, because I hoped that eventually you would come to the understanding that immortality is not something to be treasured. I helped you find them, because I figured that, at least this time around, you weren't trying to become immortal over the backs of other people. I've been so stupid. I should've seen the signs,' she bristled.

Angry, she kicked a broken piece of furniture through the living room herself, not noticing the sparks that flew of her wand in the process.

'Did you enjoy it, Tom? Did you like going behind my back and doing what you knew I would disapprove of? You made me feel like an utter fool and I hate you for it,' she said from the bottom of her heart, closing the distance between them and hitting him hard in the chest with her fist.

Her words stung harder than her physical attack. Tom looked down at her expressionlessly, but inside his emotions were whirling tremendously and he had no idea how to handle them. She hated him? No, no, she was just angry, emotional. She didn't mean it. She couldn't mean it. He felt numb, not knowing a solution to this problem. He always knew the solution to everything. Always. However, when he noticed the tears that started to fall from Hermione's eyes, he was truly lost. It pained him severely.

'I thoroughly hate you for ruining everything we had and everything we could have been,' Hermione spat, beating his motionless body repeatedly, wanting to relieve all those years of bottled-up anger and frustration on him.

She didn't care about using magic or that her wand clattered to the floor as she dropped it in order to hit him harder. She just wanted to strike him over and over again with her fists. She wanted to feel the impact of her punches. A direct assault on his stomach made Tom double over and he snapped out of his stupor. As she took another swing at him, he grabbed her wrist and pushed her arm to the side. Hermione had completely lost all sensible thought and reasoning. She just rammed him wherever she could with her free fist with all the force she could muster. Tom caught her other arm, so she started kicking him.

'Hermione,' he said, groaning when another kick struck his shin. 'Stop. Hermione, calm down.'

But she didn't stop and she most certainly didn't calm down. All those years of secrecy, of keeping her cool, of pretending not to know and searching the globe for his bloody Horcruxes once more. All those years of keeping her guard up in order to protect Rose … it was too much. Hermione cracked now she was finally able to let her emotions run free. Tom was barely able to restrain his furious ex-wife. He whirled her around, so her back was facing him, thinking that would make it harder for her to strike him. On the contrary, her heel nearly broke his already bruised shin. So, he pulled the struggling witch closer to him. She kicked him again and he lifted her from the ground in response. Hermione screamed in desperation. They plummeted into the couch behind Tom. Her other heel struck his leg and he tightened his hold on her arms, practically crushing her ribcage.

'Please, Hermione. Please, calm down. I love you. I don't want to hurt you,' he whispered against her wet, tearstained cheek.

'Too late, Tom,' she whispered back.

Tom noticed how the furious tension in her body ebbed away and was being replaced by a sad shaking. Cautiously, he loosened his grip. Hermione turned and buried her head in his robes, crying relentlessly. He felt lost, unable to speak, not knowing how to undo this or to make her happy again. He wanted her to be happy. Her sorrow pained him inside his chest and he didn't know why that was. He didn't understand the feeling. He stroked her hair gently, wanting to comfort her, needing her to accept his comfort. He kissed her on the head softly and her scent struck his nostrils, bringing back all sorts of wonderful memories. Sweet Salazar, he'd missed having her around. He was never going to let go ever again. Why did she have to find out and leave him? He had done everything to prevent her from noticing. But he needed the Horcruxes as long as he didn't have the Ankh.

He needed them.

He needed her.

He didn't have the answers anymore. He always had the answers. This powerless feeling was disturbing him greatly. No, he was not powerless. He was Lord Voldemort, the greatest wizard that ever walked the face of this earth.

He felt her hands grabbing the fabric of his robes. 'Why do you always destroy everything, Tom? Why, why, why?' she asked, shaking him. 'I loved you.'

He looked at her sad eyes. She loved him, past tense. No, that was unacceptable, completely unacceptable. He cupped the base of her skull with his hand and kissed her passionately, knowing how much she liked his kisses. But she didn't kiss him back; she tried to push him away. His other arm was wrapped around her waist and he pulled her closer, trapping her arms between their bodies as he claimed her mouth with his. She belonged to him, period. Lord Voldemort does not relinquish his properties, never. Hermione squirmed in his hold and wriggled off his lap, dropping to the ground on her behind. Perfect! He swirled on top of her and trapped her beneath him, demanding access to her mouth again.

'No, Tom, stop. Don'tmmfm…'

Wonderful, she tasted like heaven so divine. Desire was spreading through his veins as his hands roamed over her body. She was his: the woman that was bonded to him by blood and so much more. A smile crept up on his face when he realised all he had to do was wait and see. Hermione would not stay away from him; she couldn't.

He shook his head. No, he was done waiting. Lord Voldemort would claim her back right now. He moved over to kiss her neck. Hermione stopped struggling to his delight and tilted her head to accommodate him. He knew she would surrender to him once more and he smiled against her skin when suddenly the ancient Mayan Hex struck him, taking him by surprise.

Within seconds the blockade on their bond Hermione'd built dropped, and he experienced the same sensations as he had at the dance. Only this time, Hermione was the one who'd cast the counter charm to the blockade. A massive jolt flew through him, causing him to gasp before he rested his forehead against the floor and tried to concentrate somehow. She obviously had retrieved his wand from her pocked. Blindly he followed the contours of her arm before stroking her fingers and feeling the wand there. He quickly moved his hand around hers and waited for the debilitating effects running amok in the rest of his body to diminish. After a while, he lifted his head and stared into Hermione's eyes.

'Thank you, my dear, for saving me the time to do that myself.'

Hermione looked into his eyes expectantly, like she was searching for something or waiting for something to happen. Well, he had a splendid idea on what to do. He grinned and laced his fingers with hers around his wand in an intimate gesture, which would also prevent her from aiming at him. Slowly, he moved to kiss her skin again when he felt her anxiety and repulsion inside of him. She was scared and repulsed? Of him? Why was she afraid? He would never hurt her. She was his. She had to want him. That was what he wanted. He just had to kiss her in the right spot. Hermione held her breath when he moved down to her breast.

'No, Tom,' he heard her say calm and determined, while her hand touched the side of his face gently.

And he could hear she meant it. He could feel inside of him she meant it. He didn't like this: the way she felt right now, the way he now felt too, due to the complete restoration of the bond. No, he did not like this emotion, not at all. Tom stopped and looked back at her pale face. She was watching him quietly, waiting for his reaction.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered, confused with his actions. 'I didn't mean to force you.'

Tom rose and pulled Hermione to her feet at the same time, pretending not to hear the relieved breath that escaped her mouth audibly. They ended up standing only inches apart, staring into each other's eyes, while they were both still holding on to his wand. It was pointing towards the floor at the moment, for neither of them seemed eager to break the brief moment of peace and tranquillity. Tom was certain he could physically overpower Hermione easily if she tried to point his wand at him, but he had no desire to hurt her anymore. She was the mother of his child. He loved her.

Softly, he caressed the side of her face again, and to his surprise, when he moved his fingers to gain a better hold of his wand, she released her grip, allowing him to take it. He gazed at her face, searching it for the reason of this sudden submission. He came up empty. So, he searched her emotions, but they told him nothing. She felt calm and in control. She was at ease. That made no sense. She'd been scared and repulsed mere moments ago. She'd been fighting to get away from him, and now, she leaned into his touch. His long fingers stroked through her curls and she closed her eyes briefly. A flash of triumph rushed through his system. She was still his. It was the only explanation for her reactions. He cupped her cheek when she watched him expectantly, waiting for his next move.

'I'm not going to harm you, Hermione, but I do need some answers regarding your actions at the dance.'

She blinked, but that was all the response he got to his statement. Gently, he coaxed her onto the couch. As he turned away to retrieve Hermione's wand from the floor, she shook her head sadly. Was he ever going to learn?

Now, any outsider to this situation would think she was in trouble, but Hermione did not see it that way. She felt very much in control of the situation, even if she was wandless. You see, Hermione had incorporated Tom's emotional aspects a long time ago. Something she knew Tom had been unable to do fully with hers. It was because he kept fighting what he considered made him weak and vulnerable. But it was his resistance to try and understand those feelings fully what kept him fragile in the first place.

At first, Hermione had done the same as Tom. She had tried to fight feeling like him in certain situations, until she realised it was a losing battle she was fighting and she had to try a different approach. So she taught herself to control those emotions and take the edge of his temper inside of her. Instead of having those destructive emotions rule her, she learnt to rule them. And nowadays, she was able to trigger them at will, which had been an advantage in certain situations. Situations, where she couldn't afford to lose her head. Situations, where she needed to scare people off. Situations, where she needed to keep a clear mind and not get interfered with emotions that would cloud her judgement.

Tom turned and she looked at his handsomely dishevelled appearance from his ruffled, wavy hair to the buttons his shirt was missing, causing it to hang loosely over his shoulders and slightly crooked across his chest. She stared at the open flap for a moment before meeting his dark eyes, which were mirroring his feelings for her.

_Situations, such as these_, she added cautiously in her mind when her heart skipped a beat.

No, Hermione did a far better job than Tom at dealing with the effects of the other person's emotions. She knew that to be the case for sure. It's why she was certain she'd made the right call by re-establishing the bond to its full extend at that moment. He was very responsive to her emotions, to how she felt, and it gave her far more influence on his behaviour than without it. Besides, Tom was such a whirlpool of ever changing moods. Moods, his outer exterior never revealed. You had to look for small clues to see it and this way it was far easier for Hermione to respond to him appropriately and minimise any possible damage.

Yes, Hermione felt very pleased with her choice to use the Mayan Hex. It had been a thoroughly well thought of decision not to curse Tom with something else instead. It was a calculated response, an intellectual choice not an emotional one. No, there definitely wasn't an emotional reason behind her not using a viler curse when she'd held his wand in her hand, or so she reassured herself.

Tom smiled at her, making her heart do a summersault. It had no business doing that. Hermione was very irritated with her foolish heart right now, while Tom conjured a stool and sat down in front of her, placing his legs on the outskirts of hers.

Oh yes, her heart was very irritating indeed.

In order to counter her stupid, annoying heart, she folded her arms determinately over each other and glared at him. She could see and feel he was beginning to get at ease with the situation, which was never a good sign. Hermione knew she had to get him of beat again, but her mind went blank.

Why hadn't she simply cursed the living daylights out of him? Why had she let him take that wand from her without a fight? Oh Godric, she'd made a blunder of astronomical proportions. She'd responded to the way he'd felt for her in that moment, responded to what he'd wanted her to do. Well, that gave new meaning to falling into your own trap. She was a first-class idiot.

Merlin, what was keeping Harry and Ginny? Surely, that stupid dinner should be over and done with by now. Did they have to lay the eggs for the pancakes themselves or what?

And why did Tom keep looking at her like he was waiting for something? Why wasn't he saying anything? If he wanted answers, he should ask something, or did he think she was going to volunteer information? She snorted. That'll be the day.

'If you want answers, you shouldn't have cursed your little Veritaserum bottle into a million pieces,' Hermione blurted out, glancing at the glass debris and the stain created by the Wriggle's concoction with triumphant satisfaction.

'Don't need it, dear,' Tom said lightly, still looking straight at her.

'Oh,' Hermione responded, trying to hide her disappointment and failing miserably, 'well, Legilimency won't get you anywhere with me either.'

His face lit up in sheer joy. 'Thanks for the tip.'

She felt inside of her how much he was enjoying the situation, far too much to her taste. A sting of worry was beginning to form in the pit of her stomach. Damn, he would pick up on that. Quickly, she tried to draw the attention away from that.

'I'm not telling you anything,' Hermione said forcefully, stubbornly ignoring her concerned feelings.

Tom raised his eyebrows and shrugged. 'That will be your call, dear.'

'You're damn right it is,' Hermione hissed, her arms still folded protectively in front of herself.

'Give me your hand,' Tom ordered, holding out his.

She glared at it suspiciously and didn't move an inch.

Tom sighed. 'Do I need to force you, Hermione?' he asked tiresomely.

A small muscle twitch visibly crossed her face. Her stomach was no longer worried. It was down right scared. He was too calm, too self-assured, and too at ease.

'I'm not going to hurt you, Hermione,' Tom repeated reassuringly. '_Now_, give me your hand.'

He stretched out his own a bit further. Hermione looked at it anxiously and remained frozen at the spot. Tom's wandhand twitched ever so slightly, and within a split-second, Hermione slapped her hand in his a bit harder than necessary. He smiled.

'Smart move,' he said condescendingly.

Hermione watched him roll up her sleeve to her elbow with a wave of his wand before turning her hand somewhat and curling his long fingers around her wrist. The bond's electrical sensations jolted through their nerves at this prolonged contact, making them both want to expand on that physical contact even more, but they each ignored it.

'Just let your hand rest on my arm. It will be more comfortable for you,' Tom offered.

'Why, thank you,' Hermione snarled.

He raised his wand, and instinctively, Hermione tried to pull her hand from his grasp. Tom had been expecting that response and tightened his hold on her wrist, while looking her directly in the eye and touching her face with the tip of his wand. He didn't have to say anything, his intentions were clear. Hermione swallowed and relaxed her arm. It was trembling faintly. But she no longer cared anymore if he noticed she was scared, because she was.

'What are you going to do to me?' asked Hermione, biting her lip.

'As I explained before, I need to ask you some questions, Hermione,' Tom explained, placing the tip of his wand against the inside of her wrist. 'And I'd rather not listen to any of your, no doubt, well-rehearsed lies.'

The nonverbal cast spell sent a tiny flutter through her arm. To her surprise, that was all. For now. Tom held on to her wrist as he pocketed his wand. Hermione glanced concerned at her arm. She had no idea what he did to it and didn't like the fact that he was holding on to it at all. His other hand came into view as he reached out and lifted her chin.

'Look at me, Hermione,' he ordered, stroking the edge of her face. 'You have nothing to worry about if you tell me the truth,' he said softly.

Hermione did not like the sound of that one bit. 'And if I don't?' she said hoarsely.

'You'll see,' Tom said, placing their joined hands in Hermione's lap, all the while keeping eye contact with her.

Her chest constricted and her breathing became impaired as she looked into those familiar dark eyes. She was suddenly very aware of the pressure the couch was applying to her back and she really wished she had just hexed him to hell. What if he asked her something she couldn't answer? What would happen if she lied?

'Why did you say I was going to blow up the hospital?' asked Tom, interrupting her worried thoughts.

Hermione made a face. 'Because you were?' she replied somewhat stunned. She'd been expecting a much more difficult question to answer.

'Was I? Where did you get such a silly idea?'

Oh please, the innocent act. Surely, he should know it was wasted on her? If he wanted to avoid giving her information about what he knew through his questions, she could be creative too.

'I just thought you were going to do that,' Hermione answered, pretty damn pleased with her evasive truthful response, and she smirked when she felt his annoyance inside of her.

'What happened after I died?' Tom inquired, throwing his caution in the wind upon noticing Hermione saw through his actions.

Hermione gulped. There it was. The question she'd rather not answer. Apparently, he was done pretending not to know a thing about what'd happened before. Well, it was fun while it lasted, however short-lived. At least now, she knew he remembered it too and it hadn't cost her anything to get the information. That was something, if not much, since she'd already had an inkling in advance to his admittance that he did. And he had the nerve to call her a liar.

'I see you _do_ remember what happened before,' Hermione responded, shaking her head in irritation.

Briefly, Tom's eyes flickered to her wrist since nothing happened to it when she avoided answering the question. 'Answer the bleeding question,' Tom ordered, and a hint of irritation crept in his voice as she felt his temper rise.

Good, that was good. If he got emotional, he would error. She just had to add some oil to the flames. 'What was the question again?' Hermione asked sweetly.

His eyes flashed red. But to her joy, nothing happened to her wrist when she dodged the question. He'd clearly forgotten to do something about that too. This might become interesting.

'Tell me what happened after I died inside that mountain,' Tom hissed.

'That's not a question,' Hermione mocked.

Again, nothing happened, making her snigger condescendingly. _Sloppy, Tom, very sloppy._

Her fun was short-lived when he leaned forward threateningly, placing his free hand next to her shoulder in the couch and hardening the grip on her wrist on the threshold of what was still comfortable.

'Don't play games with me, Hermione,' he quietly warned, his lips almost brushing hers as he spoke. 'I may not want to harm you, but I have no qualms in doing so if you continue to thwart my questions. It would be prudent to answer them.'

His breath tickled her nostrils, filling them with the intoxicating scent that was him as he loomed over her petite form. He was so close that his powerful, magical aura wrapped around her, cocooning her as the spider did to the fly in his web. To have Tom Riddle surround you: What a way to go. Her breath stuck in her throat. Her body, so in tuned to his due to their bond, ached with desire. Part of her wanted to close the distance and kiss those full lips of his senseless. Rip off the clothes of his gorgeous body and have him take her in every way imaginable. Another part wanted to press her back into the couch in order to gain more space between them, so this experience would stop. She did nothing, just stared at him silently. His eyes had darkened, betraying the lust he felt for her. The attraction between them built up to insurmountable heights. Tension skyrocketed.

Letting out a ragged breath, Tom Riddle moved back ever so slightly. He'd decided to give them somewhat of a breather. He wanted answers not fuck her senseless. 'Last chance,' he said hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper. 'What happened after I died?'

'I got transported back through time,' Hermione replied equally hoarse. _Has our bond gotten worse? It had surely felt like it. How was that possible? We'd done nothing to strengthen it, had we?_

'You got transported,' Tom repeated, frowning, recapturing his cool as he processed this new information. 'You didn't initiate it?'

'No,' she replied, still somewhat distracted by what had occurred a few moments ago.

He glanced at her wrist and continued, 'Who did?'

'I don't know.'

Now, he looked at her wrist as if he thought something was off. Hermione followed his gaze and looked at her wrist too.

'Look at me,' Tom ordered.

She complied.

'Tell me a lie.'

'What?' Hermione said troubled, her eyes widening.

'Tell me you never wore a Slytherin scarf.'

With clear trepidation, Hermione looked at her wrist. It was obvious Tom thought his precautions were off, but she knew she had not lied to him, _yet_. And she wasn't looking forward to find out what would happen if she did.

'I told you the truth, Tom,' she said anxiously.

'And now, you are going to tell me a lie,' he stated simply. 'It's just a little one. It won't have much of an impact.'

The manner in which he stared at her made her realise there was no talking him out of this one. So, she gritted her teeth and decided to bite the bullet and get it over and done with.

'I …' she hesitated. 'I never wore a Slytherin scarf.'

Immediately, her wrist burned red.

'Ow!' she yelped and yanked her hand away from Tom. 'Are you happy now?' she added furiously, shaking her hand in a futile attempt to relieve the pain.

He whipped out his wand. 'Give me your hand,' he said. Satisfied, it was working.

'I don't think so, maniac,' she replied, trying to get her arm out of his reach.

He snorted and grabbed her hand just the same. Hermione whimpered when he pressed his wand against her reddened wrist, until a cool breeze flew around it and the pain evaporated.

'There, all better again,' he said, leaving a feather light kiss on her wrist.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his antics. But she wasn't at all thrilled when he took a hold of her wrist again.

Tom smiled at her with a devious twinkle in his eyes. 'At least now you are forewarned not to try to lie to me.'

'I haven't tried to lie to you, idiot,' she hissed.

'Ah, but you were going to,' he said dismissively. 'I suppose it is only fair to warn you that the effects intensify in accordance with the severity of the lie. Therefore, I strongly recommend telling me the truth.'

'I was already telling you the truth,' Hermione said, exasperated.

'So it would seem. But where were we? Oh yeah,' he smirked, 'who was behind the time travel?'

'I already told you that I don't know who it was and your stupid experiment just proved I wasn't lying.'

'Surely, you must have seen the person responsible?'

She merely shook her head in response.

Tom sighed, annoyed. 'Hermione, I need a verbal answer. And remember, I've travelled through time myself. I know–'

'It was different,' she interrupted, ticked off that he was still questioning her truthfulness in this matter.

'Different how?' he asked curiously.

_He's curious? He really didn't know. It hadn't been him. Maybe we can solve this puzzle together? I haven't made any progress by myself after all._

She decided to open up. Not that she had much of a choice with the curse he'd put on her wrist anyway.

'I've never seen anything like it before. There was no book, no silver flash, just this shockwave that seemed to annihilate everything in its wake. I tried Apparition. It didn't work. I thought we were going to die,' Hermione whispered, rubbing her neck with her free hand, while her eyes darted to the side. 'I didn't even recognise it as something temporal.' She paused, thinking back at the moment. 'When it struck … it was almost like I didn't exist, and then, all of the sudden, I was holding on to George on the dance floor at St. Mungo's again.' She looked up at Tom. 'I thought you had something to do with it.'

Slowly, he shook his head. 'I thought it was you,' he said quietly.

'No, I didn't do it either,' Hermione said, puzzled.

'It must have been Potter,' Tom concluded.

'What makes you say that?' she asked in clear disagreement with his assessment.

'He mastered the four books. He probably lied when he said he destroyed them. I would have.'

'Well, you're not Harry,' Hermione said, rolling her eyes in annoyance. If ever he'd made a stupid suggestion, this one topped all of them.

'Thank Merlin for that,' Tom replied dramatically.

Hermione glared at him angrily. 'You only wish you could be half the wizard Harry is. Right now, you can't even begin to live up to his shadow.'

Tom snorted. 'Yes, because the light is so bright from the overflow of goodness that it evaporates us all,' he mocked.

'Why do I even bother?' Hermione groaned. 'You're irredeemable.'

She saw the mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned towards her once more. In response, her heart began beating erratically.

'I would hope so,' he whispered in her ear, his breath brushing her cheek as he came back up again to look her in the eye. 'It's why you love me,' he stated arrogantly.

Hermione growled. 'I do not love you,' she denied in haste.

An agonising scream left her lips as her wrist burned like it had burst into flames. The pain travelled up her arm all the way to her chest. It felt like daggers were being stabbed straight into her heart. Shocked, Tom let go of her wrist and she toppled over sideways into his arms in severe pain, clutching on to her chest.

'Hermione!' Tom shouted, panicking. 'Hermione!'

She'd closed her eyes. She couldn't breathe anymore. Every movement hurt. Every inch of her body seemed to stand in a blazing fire. It burned. Oh Merlin, it burned so badly. In the back of her head, she registered Tom's shouts and she felt his arms around her, but she couldn't focus on him. The pain was too overwhelming, too severe. A cool breeze engulfed her and worked its way into her system, trying desperately to dim the fire. But she passed out cold before his countercharm came to completion.

However, instead of darkness, there was light. Instead of quietness, there were noises all around her – people chattering in a wide cacophony of languages. Scenes that happened long ago whirled before her very eyes, dizzying, confusing and impossible scenes. What was happening to her?

…


	16. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

******A/N**: I thank everyone who read, alerted, fav-ed and reviewed: sonea91, Shubhs, bugagagagagagaga, Rafaela Porto, SAVAGEGRACEx, aringle42, dhinkachika, Ankoku Dezaia, hateme101, Twlightquestionmark, Brin Hearts Harry, Desiraes0220, Chamilia Lutien Tinuviel, Gemma5VIII, CherryBoomx2, Zombie Reine, Lily, B.N.R., madie jane, That'sSusanToYou, astaniga, Atilia Dawn Black, Dwimordene, WildfirexCo2, god, monsterinc90, nana, deeps85, kik, WannaLove, niamh, bell, mmmmmm, morbidly fascinated, ilikebluepineapples, geist361, iheartlife89, lotus, Sprite Figwit's Fangirl, Atchair, tanzainy, TheFableFreak, Kuma Riddle xD, NS, ashley48506, UrbanRosefall, ilovenat1995, Rosiline, gsalilsecret, GoldenTresses91, elocution, BookSpaz808, cranberrygrapejuice, BlueSkyHeaven, pwrmom2, abbelmus, patie, EllieMay Duncan, shinobinaraku, blindfaithoperadiva, Morbid DramaQueen10, XellamyBB, Merih, Summer Leah, Sailor2Moon, Cellar, Noon's Phoenix, vampirelover2009.

**NS: ***snnnrks* You give me way too much credit. Patience isn't quite a virtue of mine; teasing on the other hand … What? Teasing isn't a virtue, you say? Why, shoot. XDDD Well, don't worry, the bond affects them both, so Tom, too. You always should be wary for him, but there is hope, especially now things are out and known to both parties. Thank you for the compliment about actually feeling fear while reading that bit about Tom being angry with Hermione. She's indeed lucky enough that he doesn't want to truly harm her. Yep, Voldy wasn't concerned about being affectionate to Hermione, because he had added knowledge about what she would do for him and he tried to save her. He indeed had more experience with the bond than Tom, and as such, he was capable of showing more emotions towards Hermione when she was around without being too uncomfortable about them. No, with the end won't allow a third part, I meant that I'm going to give this story a conclusion that won't need a part three. So, no need to be scared. Much. *insert evil cackle* And thank you for being so patient and understanding about the update speed. I do my best, so it's nice to hear from readers who understand that things don't always go as planned. Thank you for reading and reviewing.

**tanzainy: **I know. FFnet has deleted my letters in reviews, too.

**lotus: **Thank you. I'm glad you love the story.

**mmmmmmm: **Here's your update. Hope I didn't miss an m. XD

**morbidly fascinated: **Ouch, suffering from withdrawal: my apologies. I've been a bad dealer. Here's your fix. ;)

**b****ell: **years, decades, millenia, whatever it takes. However, I found time before that. XP

**niamh: **I'm definitely continuing this. You can see on both my twitter or profile how the stories are progressing. I want to thank you for the kind compliments and it's good to hear you enjoyed the stories, despite some of the errors. I'll edit them … someday … when I am no longer lazy. I'll definitely keep writing; Tomione is my guilty pleasure. Well, I didn't rewrite it because I felt the previous version sucked, but because I couldn't continue it without having my plotlines available to me. They got lost when my laptop crashed. I'm never keeping plotlines on a computer again since then. However, I'm glad you think I improved upon the old version with this one. Thanks for reading and reviewing.

**kik: **I'm glad you like the story. Thank you.

**nana: **Here's your update.

**god: **Wow, I'm honoured. I never knew god was into Tomione fanfiction. ;)

**Dwimordene: **Actually, my problem wasn't solely due to Twilight (although those are the worst kind). It was the overflow of vampires everywhere all of a sudden. Wherever you looked, there were vampires. I actually like Charlaine Harris's novels, but again, vampires … vampires … vampires. It's like anything needs them these days, so it was hard for me to write about them for a while. I just got vampire tired and it screwed over my muse for this story. However, the muse is back. And I did promise that I won't leave a story unfinished. It may take me some time, but it'll get finished eventually.

**B.N.R.: **Oh, I love all your speculations. I won't comment on them, since … spoilers! But it's fun to read them, and I recognise doing that because I always speculate, too, when I read a story about what may or may not happen. Hmmm... two ways to travel through time … Are you sure it's only two? *looks back at posted chapters and counts more than two different ways things changed; winks* Hmmm... changing time as master of manipulation … *zips lips* *points to above reply* Yes, I saw True Blood and read the novels. Talk about déjà vu, concerning some of Smeyer's plots. I'm surprised Harris didn't sue her. Ah, thanks, I have to admit that I was tempted to simplify things so readers could understand it easier, but I'll refrain from doing that now. Thanks for reading and reviewing again. xx Nerys

**Lily: **If you want info about progress on my stories, I recommend checking my profile or twitter, or leaving a signed review to which I can respond immediately. Sorry for leaving you hanging for so long though.

**CherryBoomx2: ***sniggers* I'd say I'm sorry about the cliffy but I doubt my credibility to that effect is very high, so I'll refrain and cackle evilly instead. However, I refrained myself from posting one at the end of this chapter, so I hope that makes up for the previous one, somewhat. *hides*

**dhinkachika:** I'm glad you liked the story. I'll finish it all, eventually. No worries. ;)

**bugagagagagagaga: **Here is another chapter. ;)

xxx

_With thanks to my almighty beta Serpent In Red_

_xxx_

* * *

**Masters of Manipulation: Part Two**

_This chapter is dedicated to sonea91 whose numerous, kind and lengthy reviews inspired me to write on this story again._

**Chapter 15**

They swirled around each other as if they were dancing. Not one step was taken too many nor one casting was done out of place. It was like someone had synchronised their movements, causing them to be extremely effective in this ferocious battle in which they were vastly outnumbered. Her wand was held loosely in her hand as curse after curse left its tip in rapid succession towards the many opponents coming from all sides.

_Far too many, _her mind added, briefly glaring annoyed at her partner who just hadn't listened to common sense in advance of this enterprise. _Merlin, he's just like Harry. We'll just run in and see. Who cares about scouting the area or making a well-thought out plan in advance?_

Hermione froze a dark, crackling ball that erupted in front of her and was about the engulf them. Behind his back, Tom flashed his wand at it, hurling it back from which it came. Loud screams reached her ears, and Hermione snidely considered that maybe it had been the Horcrux in Harry's head that had made him never listen to reason as she sent three black-clad men flying through a wall.

_Or maybe it's a male thing._

She saw the signal one of the men sent to the others. Hermione ducked, pulling Tom with her as five spells suddenly collided above their heads. Tom stretched out his arm, placing his wand in the centre of the collision and reversing the trajectory of the spells whilst adding a 'little' souvenir of his own. The five spellcasters were blown off their feet—the sickening noise of bones that cracked and kept on breaking didn't stop after they'd plummeted to the ground. Hermione's wand flashed to the right. Screams echoed around them whilst her Fiendfyre otter roared around and blocked the corridor to her right effectively.

'We need to go!' she yelled above the noise.

'We need to get in there!' Tom yelled back, yanking her to the side. A purplish dash flew by, raising the hairs on her arm on end from the sheer force of it.

'Are you insane? We'll never get out!' Hermione sent another nameless wizard flying through the air.

'These idiots are not stopping Lord Voldemort,' he snarled, whipping his wand around.

_Nope, not a male thing, just the moron with me._

Hermione rolled her eyes, conjuring a silvery-gold shield around them. Multiple thuds sounded as spells impacted on it. She could barely maintain it due to the excessive force her shield had to withstand. This had to stop. Soon. Only her partner seemed to be enjoying himself quite a bit to make any haste to end it. When she saw him cast one of his recent experimental curses, she came close to hexing him in the back.

'Enjoying yourself?' she snapped.

His chuckle confirmed her suspicions. Really? He was toying around while there was a bleeding army surrounding them? Well, she knew how to wipe that smile off his face. Keeping her fingers crossed this would work, she snarled tauntingly:

'No offence, but er … one-year-old babies stop Lord Voldemort, so perhaps leaving see—'

With a furious roar, he tackled her to the ground, covering her body with his. The magical blast occurring above her quickly spread outwards. Their opponents had nowhere to hide as the corridors they stood in filled with what could only be described as numerous lightning strikes. Lightbulbs burst; electricity sockets sparked; bodies fell … and then, it was dark and silent. Completely still.

They lay there for some time, unmoving, listening to any sign of a possible survivor that could still attack them.

'Lumos!' Hermione muttered finally.

As if they'd agreed on it beforehand, they each checked other corridors for movement. There was none. Everyone had perished in that blast. Then, Hermione looked up at Tom who was still lying on top of her.

'You were saying?' he asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

'Knew that would get you pissed,' she replied, wiggling her eyebrows deviously.

'Knew this curse would do wonders for your hair,' Tom countered, smirking at her hair that stood up straight in every direction.

'Awww… so you were taking my hair under consideration when you didn't think of using this curse before,' Hermione mocked. 'How positively consimmmmemm.'

He smothered her words with a kiss, pressing his body even firmer into hers so she could feel his arousal. It erupted a moan from her throat, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, rubbing herself against him. He broke off their kiss and stared at her heatedly. His hand caressed the side of her face before digging into her hair and grabbing a firm hold of it.

'When we get home,' he breathed seductively against her lips, 'I'm going to fuck you mercilessly for your impudence.'

'With the time you're taking to get things done, I'd be surprised if you could still get it up without chemical assistance.'

He spun them around without warning. With a crack, they arrived in the previously heavily fortified chamber. Tom shattered the glass around the ancient parchment, snatched it away and spun again. Only seconds yet multiple, dizzying Apparitions later, her world was still whirling and dancing as she clung to his lean form tightly whilst he proved how wrong she was on every available surface of their bedroom.

_Out of body experience, _Hermione thought, staring at herself and Tom.

However, this wasn't a memory.

Yet, it was.

She couldn't recall this happening at all.

And yet, it had.

Her mind shifted. _That _she could notice. New pathways were formed; connections made. As she saw things occurring before her, they became a part of her. Smells, sounds, visuals, feelings, all her senses incorporated what she'd only just seen. It felt real to her now. She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. If you couldn't trust your own memories, who could you trust? Darkness approached around the couple in the bedroom, dimming the light of her vision more and more until there was silence. Nothing but silence.

A bell chimed.

Confused, Hermione looked around. She was in Diagon Alley. It was a busy day. Many people were walking by with grocery bags in hand, chattering lively and uncaring. All was well and peaceful. Her trained eye, however, noticed them: Three men and one woman positioned strategically. Hermione frowned. Who were they keeping an eye on?

Then, a bloodcurdling scream erupted from mouth as Harry walked right through her. Panicking, Hermione patted with her hands over her body. She was there. She could feel herself. She wasn't dead, was she? She looked at her hand. It wasn't ghostlike. Besides, Harry wouldn't just walk through a ghost. It was a nasty experience to do so. Looking up, she decided to follow Harry. Maybe those people were following him and she was sent here to stop something?

One of the men saluted Harry, who shook his head. For a moment, Hermione saw Harry's expression as he turned and she snorted at the clear annoyance visible there before he moved indoors.

Oh, so not following Harry, her mind concluded.

Her eyes moved up. There was a crooked sign hanging above the door that Harry'd entered, stating 'Summerbee and Wildsmith 1250 AC'. She heard about them. That was the company Tom had worked for. Her eyes darted back to the group. Aurors, then. Rather conspicuous Aurors, she added. No wonder Tom had shaken them all so easily all those times.

Different events suddenly rushed through her mind, causing her to sway on her feet and grab the wall on her right. Too many memories, none cohesive or even possible and some were even contradictory to others. When she opened her eyes, she was in an office of some sorts. Harry was there, standing near a mantle. Hermione's eyes took in her new environment. She'd never seen such a neat and tidy office before. Scrolls were stacked together in an efficient holder; everything on the desk was laid down symmetrical; filing cabinets were positioned around the windows at exactly the same distance from the window frames on each end; and not one single speck of dust, ink or anything personal was to be seen. The carpet underneath her feet was immaculate. Even the dustbin was completely empty. Without ever having seen this place before, she knew whose office she was in.

'Anal, retentive freak,' she muttered.

A horrible, screeching noise reached her ears, causing her to cover them quickly whilst looking for the source of the horrendous sound. Harry closed the lid of a strange, black box he held in his hand. The noise ceased at once and he looked bemused at the object.

'I see you found something to your liking, Harry,' Tom said with a broad grin on his face as he entered the office with several scrolls under his arm. 'Perhaps a belated birthday present?'

Harry snorted and quickly placed the box back on the shelf. 'No thanks,' he replied, rubbing his ears.

'Too bad. I seem to be unable to get rid of it. For some reason no one likes it. I wonder why,' Tom stated, looking up thoughtfully.

'Maybe because the Cruciatus is less painful,' Harry suggested, making a face. 'What is it anyway?'

'A music box.'

'Ha ha,' Harry said, 'very funny. But what is it? I'm curious.'

'It's a music box,' Tom said, smirking at the disbelief on Harry's face. 'I got it as a gift from the Merpeople.'

'Ah, so you're supposed to bath with it,' Harry replied, smirking.

'Apparently,' Tom replied, shrugging. 'So, what brings you to my humble office in the middle of the day: business or pleasure?' He motioned at Harry to take a seat as he sat down behind his desk.

'A bit of both perhaps,' Harry replied, sitting down whilst eyeing Tom sharply.

Tom leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. 'And here I was wondering when your office would ever figure it out. Or did Granger warn you? She was pretty pissed when she spotted me in India. Did you know she almost hexed me on the spot?'

_India? _Hermione thought, confused. _I've never been to India. I told Harry you were in Paki—no India. No both. How can I have told Harry the same thing twice, thrice, no … infinitely._

'You don't even feel the need to deny it?' Harry asked. He'd been expecting a well-rehearsed, plausible excuse to have come his way.

'Come on, Potter. Don't tell me you actually thought that pathetic Tracking Charm was going to hold? I already found a way around the Trace in 1942, or was it 1943?' Tom frowned. 'Hmmm… it's hard to keep track of the dates, but never mind, I—'

Hermione clutched to her head, which was overloading as more and more voices came barging in.

'STOP!' she yelled desperately, feeling exhausted.

The scene changed in front of her eyes, whirling the world to a sudden standstill in the Hogwarts Head's Office. Her eyes immediately fell on the woman sitting in what to her still was and always would be Professor Dumbledore's chair.

The woman's bushy, white-grey hair stood in every direction, despite her overall lacking energy. She seemed very old, leaning back in the chair behind the familiar desk as she placed down the quill on what she knew was the last document she'd ever write or sign. Her brown eyes skirted around the office one last time. She could feel it coming, the end. Soon, she'd be snoring on the wall in a painting as well. Her keen mind recalled everything of her eventful life and more, making her smile and shake her head at the same time. He'd not take it so well, she knew. But to the well-rested mind, death was only the next great adventure. Her eyes fluttered close as she exhaled her last breath in an elongated rattle. Headmistress Hermione Granger had just passed on peacefully.

The other Hermione in the office tentatively approached herself, reaching out as if fearing to touch. Just when her fingertips made contact with the still warm skin of the wrinkled face, everything danced and she arrived elsewhere.

A silver dash flew through Tom Riddle's laboratory in London. Watching in horror, Hermione witnessed how a tall, red-haired man tumbled down to the ground, dropping the book in his hand so he could abate his fall.

'Bloody hell,' Ron Weasley cursed after puking his stomach contents all over the floor. 'Couldn't the git have found a way to make this time travel business a bit more comfortable?'

'Ron!' Hermione yelled, looking at the book she so recognised in absolute horror. 'Ron, what are you doing?'

For a moment, Ron Weasley looked around, confused.

_Had he heard her?_

Hermione yelled harder, ran to him and tried to shake him. Her frustration reached new levels when she couldn't touch him. Why not this time? She'd touched herself. She'd leaned against a wall. What was happening to her?

Ron shook his head and scrambled to his feet, grumbling some more about the uselessness of all things Slytherin before he looked around the place and smirked with an utterly pleased expression. At least, he was where he was supposed to be. Now, all he needed to know was if he had landed in the right era. He flipped out his wand.

'Tempus Revelio!' he cast.

A date and time was revealed, making Hermione frown in confusion while Ron raised his fist triumphantly. Then, he started ransacking the place. When he finally let out a cheer, Hermione saw him holding onto that same Mermish Music Box that Harry had. She hoped he'd keep the lid on but covered her ears just in case.

Just on time.

A foul, high screeching sound greeted them when Ron opened the box. Yet, he left it open and pulled a Muggle recording device from his pocket. Ron pressed the play button and held it next to the box. The device started hissing and spitting without taking in breath, and a few seconds later, everything turned quiet. There was no more screeching to be heard from the music box. A soft 'poing' sounded, and the music box turned to dust in his hands.

'Thank you, Rose,' he whispered.

Ron looked at the Muggle thing with pleasure. 'Clever people, those Muggles,' he said, sounding a lot like his father. 'Though why they call this an Eye-pod …?'

Unable to decipher the meaning of the name, Ron shrugged and picked another, identical Mermish Music Box from his bag. Hermione frowned as she witnessed Ron sniggering in intense pleasure when he placed that box on the spot he'd found the other.

'Enjoy your plans with this one, Riddle,' he mocked. Swiftly, Ron turned around. 'Scourgify!' he cast at his vomit. Then, his wand whisked around to put everything back in place as it had been before. 'Accio Eternity in Time!'

'How did you get that book?' Hermione yelped, desperate. She pulled her wand from her pocket and tried to cast. Nothing happened. 'It's supposed to be gone, Ron. What are you doing? If Tom gets that … Oh Merlin, what have you done?'

With a furrowed brow, Ron glanced around the laboratory. Then, he shook his head again as if he were going insane and glared at the green leather book in disgust. He held the recorder next to the silver snakes on the cover that were curled around each other in a circle.

'Ron, how did you get Salazar Slytherin's book!' Hermione yelled, hoping for some miracle that would supply her with the answer.

However, soft, slithering hissing noises erupted from the I-pod and everything turned silver within her eyesight.

Hermione arrived in the damp, green-lit, underground area of the Chamber of Secrets. She wobbled on her feet, feeling slightly nauseated and trying to comprehend what was occurring now. A big, black dog and a blond, teenage girl had appeared out of nowhere. Hermione had never laid eyes on them before. The dog had its eyes quite thoroughly closed even when it was transfiguring itself back to a teenage boy in Gryffindor uniform. The girl waved her wand around and changed her features back to normal.

Hermione gasped, recognising her much older daughter and Harry's son James. What were they doing?

After Rose'd pocketed her wand again, she pulled a newspaper from her pocket.

'Rose?' James asked, keeping his eyes firmly closed.

'It worked, look!' Rose said excitedly as she pushed the paper underneath James's nose.

'I'd love to, but can I?' he asked.

Rose stared bemused at him for a second, but then, she realised what the problem was. She looked around the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione followed her and gasped again when she spotted the tiny Basilisk sleeping in front of one of the serpent pillars.

'You've got to be kidding me,' Hermione muttered, disgruntled. 'You're so grounded, young lady.'

'It's asleep,' Rose said, sounding amused someone could be afraid of such a small creature. 'Besides, you know I told Sissy not to look at you.'

'You do realise Sissy is a ridiculous name for an animal like that,' James grunted, but he opened his eyes just the same. 'And we really should tell someone there is a Basilisk down here. Again. Somehow …' And he glanced towards the beast apprehensively.

_Rose hadn't created that one? _Hermione's eyes narrowed. _I'm going to kill him. Wherever or whenever he is right now, Tom Marvolo Riddle is a dead man walking._

'Awww, but she is so cute. They'll kill her.' Rose pouted. 'And she won't hurt anyone, James, I swear.'

Hermione sighed, wanting to hit her head against Slytherin's statue, while James rolled his eyes.

'You are worse than Professor Hagrid,' he said, resigning to the issue as he read the paper curiously.

'I love you, James Potter,' Rose said cheerfully, pulling James into a hug from the side and kissing his cheek.

'Well, it seems like you did it,' James said, his cheeks flushed with pleasure. 'His obituary isn't there.'

Rose nodded excitedly, and she held out the book in her hand. 'I knew this book from Professor Riddle would work.'

_Professor Riddle? Which moron had given him a teaching position at Hogwarts?_

'Do you think Headmistress McGonagall knows Professor Riddle—'

_Minnie? Really! _Hermione thought, aggravated, not hearing the rest of the conversation. _Did everyone lose a brain cell or two when I wasn't looking?_

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the book that clearly wasn't Slytherin's judging from the colour alone. Tom had to have created his own version, and even worse, he'd made it work. How big was this mess she was in?

'We better go before we are spotted here,' James said cautiously.

An amused cough sounded through the Chamber of Secrets.

Both teenagers looked at each other in shock. Hermione whirled around. She'd not noticed someone else was here, too, and had a bad feeling about this.

'I'm afraid it is a bit too late for that,' a very familiar voice said, stepping out of the shadows.

'We are so dead now,' Rose groaned underneath her breath while James looked like he was going to be sick.

'You are quite right about that, young lady. Care to explain yourself?'

Rose turned around apologetically. 'Now, Mum, all I wanted to do—' she halted and stared at her mother in shock before that shock turned to delight. 'You're a vampire! Why didn't you tell me? I thought …' Rose halted her enthusiastic rant and frowned. 'You're a Dracul vampire,' Rose added darkly.

Hermione just stared at herself as a vampire. She'd seen herself die of old age at Hogwarts. Yet, here she stood with short, spikey grey hair being very much alive and clearly a lot more vibrant and less human as before. How did all of this add up? And why indeed was she dressed as a Dracul? Her head began to pound painfully.

The vampire Hermione glanced at her outfit and smiled. 'So it would seem,' she responded casually.

'Why are you a Dracul, Mummy? Vishna is not going to like that.'

_Understatement of the year, _the human Hermione thought. _Vishna has been trying to sneakily turn me into a Vasuki Vampire a thousand times already. _Her already full mind got bombarded with occurrences of getting turned over and over again, in different places and at different times, until she crumbled to the floor from the onslaught. She felt exhausted. Drained.

'We are not here to discuss my physiological condition,' the vampire Hermione interrupted sternly as she looked from Rose to James and back again. 'What have you two done?'

James and Rose looked at each other uneasily. 'We … uh … we travelled through time,' Rose replied softly, 'by means of this book from Professor Riddle.'

'Let me see it,' the vampire Hermione demanded, holding out her hand to receive the brown book in question.

Rose handed it to her immediately. Hermione looked down at the cover and sighed annoyed when she read the title. The cover said: 'Eternity in Time by Tom Marvolo Riddle based on the theory of Salazar Slytherin.' She started flipping through the leaves interested while Rose and James waited. Finally, after what seemed like a dreadfully long time, Hermione closed the book and gazed at them seriously.

'So, what have you altered?'

That was something the human Hermione wanted to know, too. Supporting herself on her hands, she watched the interaction, not trying to intervene since clearly it was pointless.

James looked at Rose, who began stuttering something about Viktor.

'What?' the vampire Hermione asked impatiently.

'Daddy died, so I went back to save him,' Rose blurted out. 'And we succeeded, Mummy. We found him at Borgins and Burkes and quickly brought him to St. Mungo's, and now, he isn't in the paper anymore,' she said triumphantly. 'The book worked.'

'You saved Viktor Krum,' Hermione said slowly. 'That explains a lot.'

Rose nodded, pleased. 'Now Aunt Angela can be happy again.'

Hermione shook her head. 'I'm afraid Time won't allow such a huge alteration without severe consequences, Rose,' she said softly.

'According to Professor Riddle it will,' Rose stated, certain, 'if you intervene at the right time.'

_Great, take advice from him. Why did I allow her to go to Hogwarts if he's a teacher here? I must have lost a brain cell or two myself as well, _Hermione grumbled to herself.

'I see,' the vampire Hermione said slowly. 'Then tell me: Have you read the entire book before you started travelling with it, or did you just skip a couple of pages and went straight to the "How to Activate this Time Travel Device" part?'

That question had a strong sense of déjà vu, which heightened when the answer to that question was written all over Rose's very flustered face. The girl really resembled her father in so many ways. It was uncanny.

'So you didn't,' vampire Hermione answered her own question, 'because if you read everything, you would have come across the chapters where To—Professor Riddle explained that alterations based in Time only last if they were intended to happen. Time is not linear, Rose. It will correct what it perceives as an error, and I am afraid it will see Viktor's rescue as such. You only delayed the inevitable and, by doing so, you caused several rifts in the Time Continuum. Time counted on Viktor's death, and because it didn't happen the way it was supposed to, Time searched for a different solution to achieve the wanted outcome. I'm afraid that solution altered your reality drastically.'

'I don't get it,' James said, confused.

'You two have not returned to the same place you came from. Things will be different in this timeline because Viktor did not die that day.'

'But that is a good thing,' Rose rebutted, crossing her arms stubbornly.

'No, it isn't,' Hermione and her vampire self said out loud simultaneously.

For a moment, Hermione could've sworn her vampire self's lip curved up briefly. However, her pale face was set sternly again as she pulled out a paper of her own from her beaded bag and handed it to Rose.

'This is what happened two days after you saved Viktor.'

Rose and James looked at the headlines in the Daily Prophet quietly: '_Death toll is still on the rise. Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes blames bad maintenance for the collapse of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, resigns post over huge scandal involving the mismanagement at the Department of Magical Buildings and Constructs.'_

'I'm sorry, Rose,' Hermione said softly and she placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder. 'Viktor died in that collapse along with many others.'

'Bu—but,' Rose stuttered.

Hermione wanted to get to her feet and comfort her daughter, but she couldn't bring herself to move a muscle. She already was here. She'd no idea what state she was in at the moment and how one would qualify her way of being, but this was dangerous. All the time travel talk had reminded her about the temporal repercussions of having two of you present at the same event. It was probably for the best not to draw attention to herself. So, instead, she watched how her vampire self conjured the three of them some chairs and seated them all.

'Time is not something to casually tamper with, Rose. It's an entity of its own and a highly dangerous one. Many before you have tried in the past to fool Time and correct things, only to find their situation had turned a hell of a lot worse when they went back to where they came from. Books like these have been the cause of wars and destruction. Ask Vishna the next time you see him, if he is willing to speak about it. You must not use this book again, Rose. Time will go after you if you do.'

'How do you mean?'

Hermione sighed. 'Right now, there are too many people interfering in the timeline of a small period.'

Hermione listened, interested. Was she finally going to learn something useful about what was going on? Would her vampire self know she was here and help her out?

The vampire Hermione pulled out an elliptic instrument. 'This is what is called a Temporal Watch. You see those red flashes here?'

Hermione nodded, whilst James and Rose said 'yes' simultaneously.

'Well, those are temporal incursions, meaning someone is making alterations in Time right that moment.'

'There are a lot of them,' James commented quietly.

'Indeed,' Hermione said knowingly. 'There are too many in a small timeframe. Time will interfere harshly if this doesn't end soon.'

'What will it do?' Rose asked timidly.

'Hopefully, we don't need to find out if I can prevent it by undoing all these screw-ups before Time intervenes. I need to know exactly what you and James did, Rose.'

'But Viktor—'

'Sweetheart, right now, with all these interferences, I don't even know if Viktor's death is a temporal error or something that is supposed to happen. But I do know you and James are in danger from Time as long as your interference in it remains.'

'But the book is supposed to protect the bearer from Time Corrections,' Rose rebutted.

'You need to have it with you twenty-four/seven to be protected. So, which one of you is going to take the risk to walk around without it?' Hermione asked calmly. 'Are you taking it with you to the Slytherin common room, Rose? Or will you allow James to hang onto it in the Gryffindor tower?'

Both teenagers shared a glance of discomfort between themselves.

'And do tell me how you are going to prevent its owner from claiming it back because I promise you that he will find out you have it. There are charms on this book that will enable him to locate it anywhere at any time.'

Rose bit her lip and covered her face in her hands.

'It's alright, sweetie,' vampire Hermione said softly. 'I'll try my hardest to save Viktor, but you need to tell me what you did now.'

James heaved a sigh before telling Hermione everything. When he was done, Hermione nodded and stood up. 'You're both lucky. This can be easily fixed.'

'Mum?' Rose asked.

'Yes?'

'Won't Time perceive you changing our stuff as a temporal incursion, too?'

That was something the human Hermione was keen on hearing as well.

'I am not changing things in the same manner you did. Time will never know I was there. It is …' Hermione halted and looked at her daughter. 'You'll understand someday.'

'So, there is a method to change Time safely,' Rose started excitedly.

'Rose,' Hemione interrupted warningly. 'Don't use this book again.'

Rose shook her head. 'I won't, Mummy. But shouldn't you warn Professor Riddle about this? What if he uses his book?'

Hermione rolled her eyes. Now there was a pointless endeavour to embark upon. She was pretty sure her vampire self would agree with that assessment. And indeed, she witnessed how the vampire's eyes darkened considerably.

'Professor Riddle is very much aware of the risks involved, dear. Warning him will be like trying to teach a fish to live on land. Now, why don't you go back to your dormitories, forget this place exists and get some sleep.'

'But I can't leave Sissy alone,' Rose rebutted indignantly. 'She will be lonely.'

'Sissy?'

Hermione pointed tiresomely to the Basilisk several feet away as if anyone could see her pointing.

'The Basilisk,' James explained, sighing.

'Oh,' vampire Hermione said, looking at the tiny creature with a frown. 'That is not a pet, Rose; a Basilisk is a dangerous, deadly animal.'

Rose started ranting about how sweet and harmless Sissy was, and how she was a good Basilisk who always cleaned her fangs, while James coughed Hagrid underneath his breath, making Hermione smile. She looked from her daughter to the creature and sighed.

'I have to go,' vampire Hermione said softly. 'Be careful, you both.'

Rose looked surprised at her mother for not countering her Basilisk cheering. The other Hermione realised that as time would be changed by herself, everything that was would not be; so her vampire self had obviously decided any debate about the Basilisk was of no use anyway. Still, Hermione would like to know how she'd learned to undo temporal incursions. But the other Hermione disappeared in a dash of silver before she got anymore answers.

Instead, she felt the pull and push at her body as she got whisked away, too. Unable to keep her bearing or hold onto anything, she arrived at her new destination: a clearly luxurious penthouse with a magnificent view of London. She recognised the view even if Ron hadn't stood in front of the window, staring at the building of the Wizarding hospital happily. This time she was in Ron's place.

'Ronald?' a female voice shouted. 'Have you seen the children?'

'The children, what children?' Ron muttered, bemused.

Hermione's eyebrows raised and she decided to follow him as he left the study. Soon, she noticed Ron turned absolutely distressed. He touched everything he saw as if it were the first time. Hermione had to admit none of it seemed like his taste at all. There were pink, silk curtains in front of the windows, held back with big bows. She recalled he'd had a bar, separating his kitchen from the living room. However, now there was a huge dining room table instead with a crystal chandelier hanging above it. The heavily decorated, wooden table gave room to eight seats and was set rather extravagantly.

'What's going on here?' Ron asked, whispering. He jumped into the air and let out a huge, frightened scream when Pansy Parkinson came around the corner.

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. Pansy?

'There you are! Did I startle you? You shouldn't daydream so much, Ronnie. Oh, dearest, have you seen Arthur and Imogen?' Pansy asked, kissing the completely petrified Ron lightly on the cheek as she passed by. 'I can't find them anywhere, and we were supposed to go shopping for their last year at Hogwarts. I swear I am never having twins again.'

'P-Pansy?' Ron stuttered, wiping his cheek firmly with his hand making Hermione snort at his disgusted expression. 'What are you doing here?'

'Good point,' she retorted. 'You are right. I am not waiting for them any longer. We were supposed to go shopping and I am going shopping, with or without them. I'll tell you, those two are a big nightmare. They can never hold their appointments, always running off with some sort of crazy invention. Well, if they have to spend the entire year at Hogwarts in uniforms that are too short, it will be their problem now. I am done looking around for them. Octavius and Daisy never caused us this much trouble.'

'Daisy? Octavius?' Ron muttered, scratching his head in bemusement.

Hermione bit her lip, trying to hold in her laughter. Oh gosh, this was just too good to be true.

'Yes, they know how to uphold oneself as our kind should. Something Arthur and Imogen will probably never learn,' Pansy grumbled. 'I'm off shopping now, Ronald. If those two crawl out from whatever rock they are hiding under, tell them Mummy is very upset with their behaviour.'

_Yes, Ron, tell them you're married to pug-faced Parkinson, _Hermione thought, roaring with laughter as she looked at the huge wedding photograph above the mantle while Pansy floo-ed away.

Ron turned around, came face-to-face with said picture of him and Pansy being incredibly touchy feely with each other and let out a frightened yelp. He jumped back, clutching to his chest and saying 'no, no, no, no,' over and over again. 'This is not possible. It just isn't.'

His blue eyes went to his hand, and he pulled off the wedding ring that was present on his finger.

'Ron and Pansy forever, 31 March 2004,' he read aloud in despair. 'No way. No, I'd never, EVER marry Pansy Parkinson! This is a dream, a nightmare.'

Ron pressed his eyelids together and reopened them, but the scenery had not changed. He was still holding onto this stupid ring and he could still see that ridiculous photograph. In it, Pansy winked at him. So he closed his eyes again and pinched himself, but still, it changed nothing. He threw open several doors in the hall and checked out several children's rooms—some of which were in very Slytherin colours. Hermione followed him as he freaked out more and more before he ran back into the study.

'Expelliarmus!'

The Disarmament Spell hit Ron right in the back and threw him across the room into the wall. Ron crashed to the ground in a crumbled up heap and groaned. Shocked, Hermione's amusement died down. She'd recognised the voice. Quickly, she made it into the room to check her presumption of who stood behind the door. With a vicious smirk on his face, Tom Riddle casually pushed the door to after he'd caught Ron's wand from the air. Hermione felt utterly helpless as he seemed to stare right through her and her wand didn't produce a single spell she tried to cast. There was nothing she could do to help Ron.

'Tom,' she whispered, reaching out to him. His face was paler than ever before and he seemed somehow colder, more distant. Her hand went straight through his chest. She saw him shiver and blink, so she repeated more forcefully and hopefully, 'Tom, I'm here! Please, please, notice me. Use our bond, please.'

But he stepped forward and walked right through her, making her gasp at that horrible sensation of having your insides being displaced and curl around.

'Enjoying married life, Weaselbee?' Tom taunted, twirling his wand around lazily.

Ron scrambled back on his feet and glared at the Slytherin furiously. 'I don't know what you did, Riddle, but it won't work.'

'Tsk, tsk, tsk,' Tom clicked with his tongue disapprovingly. 'This is your doing, "Ronnie dearest"; you created this wonderful timeframe yourself. I have to admit I find it fascinating,' he mocked. 'Unfortunately, I cannot allow it to continue to exist. But, believe me, I am very tempted to leave you here with _pug-faced_ Parkinson.'

Hermione could tell Ron really wanted to punch Riddle and was barely able to restrain himself. She swiftly padded around in order to keep both wizards within her sight. She might be helpless now, but that didn't mean she wanted to miss any clues of what was happening.

'I see the all-powerful sorcerer has been turned to the blood-drinking community,' Ron sneered. 'Did you go willingly or did your almighty powers fail to stop a vampire from assaulting you?'

_Ron's right: He's a vampire, _Hermione concurred, wrinkling her forehead. _It's barely visible. How does he do that? No Dracul emblems either. They're practically an obligation. Unless … he's ruling them. Maybe he's a half-vampire? Why can't I ask things? _This whole situation was frustrating her beyond belief.

Tom arched an eyebrow. 'Be glad I drank an hour ago, Weasley, but,' he added, tilting his head thoughtfully, 'I can always use seconds.'

Riddle laughed loudly when Ron took a step back. 'Oh, relax; I have no need to poison myself by drinking your disgusting blood. So … where did you get this book?' he added quietly, his tone changing enough for his audience to know he meant business now.

Ron glanced at Salazar's book in Tom's other hand. 'Why do you think I would be at all inclined to inform you?'

'That depends on how fond you are of Hermione,' Tom replied softly.

Hermione frowned. Did he think that would work on Ron?

'Threatening her life to me is pointless, Riddle, I know you wouldn't harm her,' Ron replied, narrowing his eyes in anger.

Like she'd thought, Ron wasn't stupid.

'She is dead in this timeline,' Tom said bluntly.

_Oh. Well, that's a bummer._

Wide-eyed, Ron just stared at him.

'Did you really think you could fool around with Time that easily?' Tom said menacingly, and he took a step in Ron's direction. 'Did you really think your mindless tampering would have no consequences whatsoever?' Another step. 'Now, I know Potter destroyed this book. So where did you get it from, Weasley?' He pushed his wand in Ron's throat with determination. 'And you better answer me pretty damn fast because I promise you that I will obtain the answer from that pathetic mind of yours in a heartbeat and I will not be pleased if you waste my time.'

'Hermione is dead?' Ron whispered, his chin trembling.

'Yes,' snarled Tom. 'Now—'

'Can you get her back?'

'Yes,' Tom replied forcefully. '_If _it's possible to undo your rubbish.'

'I got it from another dimension.'

'Another dimension!' Hermione screeched. 'Are you crazy?' She really was upset she was unable to touch anyone at the moment because she had the inherent need to pummel Ron to death.

Baffled, Tom looked at Ron. 'You screwed around with Time in two dimensions?' he hissed. 'Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?'

'Of course he doesn't,' Hermione added, annoyed. 'He just thought it would be a swell idea to fix some problem in this one. Oh for crying out loud, what's wrong with these people? If this is why I am like this, I'll find a method to haunt you all, you bloody idiots.'

'I wouldn't have to if you would just remain dead and buried where you should be, Voldemort,' Ron sneered back.

Tom blinked but caught his composure quickly. 'Which dimension?'

Ron shrugged his shoulders.

'Really, Weasley, do you ever even use that brain of yours?' Tom snarled, annoyed. He shook his head. 'I don't have time for this. Legilimens!'

Apparently, it took Tom quite some effort to retrieve the bit of information that Ron forgot about, but in the end, he withdrew. Ron crashed to the floor, panting and perspiring heavily. Coldly, Tom looked down at him.

'The next time you consider screwing around with something you can't possibly comprehend the full meaning of, I suggest you remember this exact moment. Trust me, Ron Weasley, when I say that you will be begging for death _if _I have to return to you for the same issues,' he quietly said. 'I will not so generous with you again as I am right now.'

Tom swirled away.

'Her–Hermione?' Ron stuttered.

Tom froze. 'She will be fine,' he responded after a moment of silence. 'I will know if you try to pull something like this again,' Tom added with a knowing smile. 'And you will never know what it was that hit you.'

As he disappeared in that silver flash, Hermione rescinded to what would occur next. She arrived on platform nine and three-quarters, watching the Hogwarts Express let out a puff of smoke. So many Wizarding people and not a single soul was aware of her, not even herself. She moved closer to Harry, Ginny, Ron and 'Hermione' to overhear what was being said.

Hugo and Lily were having an animated discussion about which House they would be sorted into when they finally went to Hogwarts, too. That was when her delightful husband decided to put in his two Knuts.

'If you're not in Gryffindor, we'll disinherit you,' Ron said, 'but no pressure.'

'Ron!' the other Hermione exclaimed, shocked.

The one who couldn't voice her opinion wanted to smack him over the head because, despite that Lily and Hugo laughed about it, both Albus and Rose seemed solemn and concerned. Fortunately, her other self told the children that Ron didn't mean it. However, Ron's attention was already elsewhere.

'Look who it is,' he said, nodding to the Malfoys.

Hermione turned her head, curious too. She felt time hadn't been kind to Draco in this reality, but at least, he seemed somewhat politer. He did send them a curt nod. She hoped it hadn't strained his neck too much. Shortly, she sniggered, finding this the most insane place she'd visited so far. Her memories became so odd. She'd not gone to the past. She'd never met Tom Riddle. And she'd married Ron!

'So that's little Scorpius,' said Ron under his breath. 'Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains.'

'Ron, for heaven's sake,' said Hermione, half stern, half amused. 'Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!'

'You're right, sorry,' said Ron, but unable to help himself, he added, 'Don't get too friendly with him, though, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood.'

_Really, Ron?_

For good measure, Hermione whacked him over the head anyway. It went straight through him as expected, but he jolted nevertheless.

'Ron?' she asked tentatively. Yet, darkness began to engulf her rapidly.

She'd been with Ron. She'd been with Ron! Her mind tried to wrap itself around it. Somehow, it didn't compute with everything else, yet it had happened. Somehow. She could recall it and remembered their children. However, that was gone now. Something new was coming. Another memory. How long before her mind would burst? How long before she'd turn absolutely insane? She hardly dared to open her eyes. The heat and humidity around her was overwhelming. Reluctantly, she checked her surroundings. Immediately, nervousness and excitement overcame her. That was how she'd felt before when she'd been here with him. She didn't try to tell herself she was here again; she just watched how 'the memory' unfolded in front of her.

The other Hermione wiped her brow before ringing the doorbell.

'Merlin, it's hot here,' she said, agitated, grabbing the top of her shirt and using it as a fan for her face whilst wiping her other hand off on her skirt.

Every gesture she made was a clear sign of her nervousness. He swiftly snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him. His fingers folded around her wrist and brought her arm down against her stomach, too, holding her tightly in his embrace.

Hermione smiled. She could practically feel what her other self felt, experience it simultaneously as if it were happening right now. Still, she wondered if anyone would ever hold her again like that for real? Would Tom? She'd always liked his embraces, no matter how possessive they could be—or maybe because they were? It felt safe in his arms; she wished she was there right now. Jealousy stung even when it was aimed at yourself, Hermione realised as she wrapped her arms around herself comfortingly. It wasn't quite the same.

'What are you doing?' her other self squeaked in alarm, struggling to regain her freedom. 'They could open the door any second and if—'

'Relax,' Tom breathed into her ear, tightening his hold on her warningly.

Hermione watched as his lips brushed over her exposed neck before he licked her skin in a languorous fashion. Tingling sensations rushed through her body, causing her to shudder and cease her struggles. She witnessed how she'd closed her eyes, tilted her head to accommodate him and surrendered into his embrace. She could feel and see him smile as he placed a soft kiss underneath her earlobe. It was the oddest occurrence yet.

'Everything will be fine,' he softly spoke. 'You're mine now.'

'Which will make this even more awkward since they know who you are,' she objected.

He sniggered. 'You felt the need to tell them everything, dearest. I was all for making something up. However, you've got nothing to worry about. Parents always love me.'

'Yeah,' Hermione said, rolling her eyes. 'I'm sure my Muggle parents will love that I am taking Lord Voldemort home to announce I'm going to marry him.'

He was shaking from contained laughter against her.

'Well, it does make you Obliviating and moving them all the way to Australia a bit—Oww.' She'd stomped on his foot, hard. He barely had time to school his face when the door swung open, revealing a tall, skinny woman with sleek brown hair.

_Mum, _Hermione thought sadly as the world quickly blackened around her. She'd wanted to see more of her parents and Tom during that time. It was a wonderful memory. However, she found herself further into the past. She was standing inside a grand ballroom, which was never supposed to be there, hearing herself scold a teenaged Tom Riddle. She sighed and sat down in one of the chairs tiresomely.

'Have you read the entire book before you started travelling with it, or did you just skip a couple of pages and went straight to the "How to Activate this Time Travel Device" part?' Hermione hissed underneath her breath.

The answer to that question was written all over Tom's now flustered face. So, Hermione advanced on him and underlined her next words by poking him furiously in the chest with her index finger.

'Do you even understand half of what Salazar Slytherin wrote down on the pages, or did your arrogant, little mind think it would be irrelevant information as long as the great Lord Voldemort got what he wanted?'

Clearly, Tom was restraining himself from doing something. He was standing there, rigid. The tension of his muscles was oh so visible, and a predatory glint was eminently present in his eyes. However, his company was pretty damn angry, and his continuing silence to her bold statements made her even more ferocious, so she continued her raving rant whilst her elder counterpart shook her head.

'Hah! But don't take my measly, Mudblood word on it. Feel free to listen to the only voice you deem relevant,' and she quoted mockingly, '"And tell him to stop wasting his precious time meddling in events he has no control over".' She snorted. 'You know, I'm actually beginning to see its relevance. I guess you remembered getting yourself stuck on the inside of a ballroom with a Gryffindor one day due to your own stupmmmblm…'

Hermione sighed, scratching her neck. Watching it in retrospect made her youthful ignorance even worse. It was so obvious to her now. All the signs were there. She couldn't believe she'd not seen this coming. She really was naïve and inexperienced back then. She recalled how confused she'd felt after that kiss. How appalled she'd insisted her mind upon feeling when right now all she wanted was for him to hold her so tightly and devour her again.

Then, she realised she could feel just that.

Closing her eyes, she emerged herself in that memory of him capturing her against his firm body, following his lead in that all-consuming kiss. This time she thoroughly enjoyed it. When he pushed her teenage self away roughly, her eyes snapped open in disappointment. She'd not looked at him then, but now, she saw the confusion, distress and flustered state he was in, too, and it made her smile happily.

'Not so collected as you like yourself to be, are you, Riddle?' she commented deviously. 'If this is what Harry saw, I'm beginning to understand his insane choice to revive us.'

The ballroom shattered in her mind. Screaming in pain, Hermione clutched to her head and found herself in her old home. She let herself sink in the bed, feeling the soft cushions and bedding underneath her as she slowly absorbed everything.

Dressed in a beautiful, burgundy evening gown, another Hermione was ready to attend the concert at the Petronas building. It would be their last night together for a while because they both had business to attend to. Tomorrow, she would have to go to Japan for the annual Arithmancy conference and Tom would go to Egypt once more to see whether there was any reference to Sakhmet's Cane to be found. She looked out of the window of their magically hovering home in the sky of Kuala Lumpur to watch the incredible sight of the Petronas Twin Towers and its amazing Skybridge, which joined the towers together.

It was most convenient that Tom had found a manner to bring their house along wherever they went. Otherwise, she would never have had such a magnificent view of the building as she did right now. Besides, it was always nice to have your own stuff available to you. Hermione walked over to the vanity to check her appearance one last time. She magically pulled a loose strand of hair into the hairpin as well and was reasonably satisfied with the result. Her hair truly could be a nightmare to maintain, but a simple hairpin did wonders on evenings like this.

_Why can't I make myself known to my company? _the Hermione lying on the bed thought, frustrated.

When she looked back at the vanity, she was no longer looking at herself but at the handsome reflection of her husband. Time must have progressed until right after the concert, because she could hear herself sing incredibly off key underneath the shower while Tom was loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt at the top. Smirking at his own reflection, he turned around satisfied when a dash of silver lighting whirled around their bedroom.

Hermione held up her hand to protect her eyes from the flash, and when she opened them again, she received the shock of a lifetime. A few feet away stood a tall, thin, skeletal-looking man with snakelike features and crimson eyes. Inside their bedroom stood Lord Voldemort. There was no mistaking him. Tom seemed just as stunned as she was. This was simply impossible. He was dead.

Voldemort tilted his head left and right to loosen his neck. 'I'd almost forgotten how despicably nauseating this time travel business is,' he said, while pulling a vial from his pocket and downing its contents.

Apart from Hermione's now incredibly false notes resonating through the walls, it was eerily silent in the bedroom. Tom wasn't moving; Hermione was lying utterly still on the bed; and Voldemort was grinning at the 'singing' he heard. Curiously, Tom's older version looked around the bedroom; he stared straight at her lying on the king-sized bed and she felt all colour drain from her cheeks.

_Could he see her? Of all the people in the entire world, could HE see her?_

She opened her mouth; yet, those crimson eyes wandered on. A relieved sigh left her lips as Voldemort strolled around while taking in the nightstands covered in books, the vanity behind Tom, the oak wardrobe and the dresser, which he halted before. He smiled when he picked up the wedding photograph of Tom and Hermione before placing it down again and looking at the television in disgust.

'Love the Muggle junk you've got,' he mocked.

'What … are … you… doing… here?' Tom hissed, glancing over his shoulder to the bathroom where Hermione was still showering. 'You are supposed to be dead.'

'Not for another three years,' Lord Voldemort spoke casually, and he flicked his wand at the book on the floor.

The silver-green volume flew through the air and landed in Tom's hands. Astonished to hold a book in his hands that Potter supposedly destroyed, he looked at his older counterpart. 'How did you get it?'

'My dear boy, you and Hermione graciously brought it to me on the night of my resurrection, or did you forget about your little visit back then?'

'No, I hadn't forgotten how you gave Hermione that vile potion,' Tom snarled.

'Oh, well, it didn't work, but from the looks of things here—' He glanced around the room again with a sarcastic smirk, lingering for a moment on the bed on which Hermione shifted uncomfortably. '—I am really sorry it didn't. It seems I was right in assuming she would get the upper hand in the end. Sneaky, little Gryffindor,' Voldemort added fondly. He sighed before turning his attention back to Tom. 'You disgust me. Hermione is more of a Slytherin than you are.'

Tom snorted. 'You do realise you are insulting yourself here,' he retorted.

'You are not me,' Voldemort replied coldly.

'Thank Merlin for that,' Tom stated sarcastically. 'I kind of enjoy having a nose, thank you very much.'

'As regrettable as the loss of my nose may be, the pros of performing the chant far outweigh the cons. It greatly enhanced my magical powers. But I suppose someone, who is satisfied with making a house hover in mid-air and spending his time on sharing our ointment and other inventions with the rest of the world, would lack the ambition to understand such matters,' Voldemort snarled, watching Tom disgustedly. 'Now, let's get to business because I sure as hell did not allow Potter to vanquish me so you could squander our life on measly trivialities. Let's go to the living room.' His slit-pupilled eyes moved to the bed again. 'It's more private to talk there.'

'You can see me,' Hermione stated, sitting up surprised.

'I have no interest to talk to you,' Tom spat.

Voldemort looked right at her. 'Yes,' he merely said, then turned to Tom and continued, 'I know you don't, but it's imperative we do.'

'No wait!' Hermione yelled, climbing out of the bed as Voldemort pushed Tom out of the bedroom, 'What's go-Nooo!'

She felt like torturing and murdering everyone in her way as she reappeared in another place in time. Immediately, she yelled, kicked against things and tried to make herself known to the inhabitants of the room around her. Yet, no one noticed. Eventually, she leaned with her back against the wall, sinking down to the ground. Why had she waited? She'd suspected he'd noticed her immediately. Why had she been too scared to speak? She should've said something.

However, it was something. He'd seen her. Yet, he was dead. Perhaps she was dead, too? Maybe only dead people could see her? Oh, that was a depressing thought. Maybe she was in some type of 'in between' realm. Nah, that couldn't be. Voldemort had said he'd come through time right after his resurrection, so he wasn't dead then.

Of course, he could've been lying. He lied. All the time.

Her face darkened. She looked around, disinterested at her current surroundings: a vampire dwelling. Her memory filled with becoming Minister for Magic a while back and the negotiations she'd started with the vampire community. Risky business.

Minister Hermione was about to open the door and leave the premises.

Crack!

A large bladed knife landed inches away from her head in the wooden door. The corners of her mouth twitched upwards slightly, and for a moment, the red gleam in her eyes was reflected by the shiny metal of the blade; but it was gone before anyone noticed it apart from her other self, sitting on the ground. Minister Hermione pulled out the knife with her left hand to show her respect, turned around and saw the woman—who was deemed the most deadly vampire alive—wait for her response. The Countess Elizabeth Bárthory watched as Hermione wrapped her right hand around the blade and clenched her fist around it, making her blood flow. She, then, paced towards the Countess in precisely ten steps, halted and violently jammed the blooded blade inside Bárthory's left shoulder.

'Do not challenge me, your Highness,' Minister Hermione said threateningly, obeying to the code. 'For today is a good day to die.'

Hermione snorted on the floor. Right now, whatever happened with Bárthory didn't interest her one iota. Things would change again anyway.

She was right.

Only this time, she wasn't an outsider looking at the action. She actually was inside her body as it used to be without any control over it. She tried to communicate with herself, tried to take over and move her mouth and say, 'Help.'

It was a futile action. She couldn't even move her own facial muscles to get rid of that huge smile that was painted on her face. She recalled not being able to get it off her face all day long. This was one of the happiest days of her life.

Content, she relaxed and decided to enjoy what was surely coming. If she couldn't do anything else, this was her next best option.

Hermione was sitting at her table in the restaurant of the hotel, watching all the cheerful people around her. Everybody was waiting excitedly until it was twelve o'clock and the ever so famous fireworks would illuminate the sky of Sydney, Australia, once more. However, for Hermione, the fireworks had already started.

'A drink for a beautiful lady,' Tom said, and he placed the glass on her table with a small bow.

'Why, sir, you are most kind,' Hermione responded, 'but to drink alone is such a pitiful sight. Who will I toast with?'

'Easily fixed,' Tom answered, and he removed his hand from his back in an exaggerated twirl to show her his own glass.

'Very convenient,' Hermione said approvingly.

'I am pleased you like my arrangement,' Tom replied, sitting down on the chair across from hers. 'What will we salute to?'

Hermione grinned at him deviously. 'How about your seventy-seventh birthday?' she suggested, sniggering.

Tom tilted his head, amused. 'Well, haven't you landed yourself an old, feeble man for a husband, Mrs Riddle,' he responded teasingly.

'Lucky me, it means I'll be getting plenty of sleep tonight,' Hermione said.

She let out a fake yawn and stretched her arms above her head before she grinned back mischievously at her now thoroughly shocked husband.

'Sleeping on your wedding night? What an appalling idea,' Tom muttered, shaking his head in disbelief over such a silly suggestion.

Hermione raised her glass, completely ignoring his muttering. 'Happy birthday, Tom.'

They tipped their glasses together, staring into each other's eyes like they were alone in the hotel's bar. Yet, nobody had eyes for the newlyweds as they drank their champagne heatedly.

'You know,' said Tom, placing his now empty glass on the table. 'I thought it was tradition that one hands someone a gift on their birthday?'

Quickly, he looked under the table. 'Nope.' He glanced behind Hermione's chair. 'Nothing there either.' His dark eyes darted up and down Hermione's body appreciatively. 'And you can't possibly be hiding anything in that itty, bitty, tiny dress you're wearing.'

'And here I was thinking you liked my tiny, itty, bitty dress,' Hermione said in a fake pout.

'Oh, I do … I am just wondering if we aren't breaking any laws in this country,' Tom said teasingly.

'Since when does that bother you?' Hermione teased back.

'Ouch,' Tom said, clutching his hands to his chest in an exaggerated move to demonstrate his dreadfully hurt feelings.

Hermione took another lazy sip from her champagne before she slowly rose from her chair, placed the glass on the table and stepped in front of him. Her hand cupped his handsome face that turned quite anticipatory when she squatted down on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

'Just because you felt the need to wear far too much clothing on this incredibly hot summer's night, doesn't mean everyone is that foolish, dear,' Hermione said softly.

'You'd rather I had shocked you and your parents by wearing shorts to our wedding?' Tom whispered against her lips, laughing when he saw Hermione's appalled expression. 'And they say women have to suffer to look pretty.'

Hermione snorted. 'Oooh, I feel for you, baby,' she mocked and kissed him thoroughly on the lips.

As they deepened the kiss, she felt Tom's arms sneak around her waist, pulling her against his body tightly, while she was doing the same to him. All around them people were counting backwards, until shouts of 'Happy New Year!' flew all around them and the first pieces of firework burst into the night sky. They only had eyes for each other.

'Happy New Year, Tom.'

'Happy New Year, Hermione Riddle.'

Hermione tilted her head backwards and laughed out loud. She looked back at him and shook her head. 'I knew it. I knew this would turn you all smug and unbearable. I should have kept my own name,' she replied, sniggering.

Tom scowled. 'If you think for one minute I would have allowed that, Mrs Riddle, you are sorely mistaken. You are mine now, my dear,' he smoothly added, kissing her neck. 'And I intend to make full use of your services.'

'Men,' Hermione mocked, 'all talk and no play.'

'I am the wrong person to challenge, Mrs Riddle,' Tom whispered dangerously.

Hermione reached for another chocolate from the bowl on the table, and she held it in her hand as she leaned back a little bit. 'Promises, promises,' she added mischievously while she slowly placed the chocolate in her mouth with a naughty grin on her face.

In a blink of an eye, Tom was on his feet, lifting Hermione up in his arms. Quickly, she wrapped her legs around his waist and grabbed a hold of his neck again. Their foreheads came to rest against one another.

'I do love this petite dress of yours,' Tom said against her lips.

'Oh?' Hermione responded, faking ignorance. 'And why is that, Mr Riddle?'

'Easy access,' he explained, and he illustrated what he was going to do to her by crushing his mouth on hers and devouring her with his tongue thoroughly. Hermione's eyes fluttered shut and her hands roamed through his hair. She felt his arm around her waist tighten his grip while his other hand firmly took a hold of her head and kept it in place. A swift spin later, Tom Apparated them into their suite.

She'd no idea if it were the Apparition that triggered it. Upset, Hermione realised her vision was turning black. She got dragged away. Again.

_Not now!_

She groaned, feeling thoroughly aroused as her blood still pounded through her veins with a vengeance. Merlin, she needed a shag. Desperately.

'This needs to be stopped,' Vishna said seriously.

'Permanently,' Vlad concurred.

Alarmed, Hermione's eyes snapped open, taking in the two vampire princes who normally could drink each other's blood in hatred. Instead, they were talking quite animatedly together.

'The Wizarding World is taking a risk that could eradicate us all,' Vishna said, sighing. 'I wish there was another way.'

'I'd love to wait for your precious witch, but she's not getting it done on time,' Vlad said harshly.

'I agree. How long till your forces are able to take over Europe?' Vishna asked.

'Depends on whether you can prevent them from getting backup. I can overrun Europe within the next twenty-four hours if nobody interferes.'

'It'll take me about twelve to concur South East Asia,' Vishna said absentmindedly. 'We'll have to divide our resources for the Americas. Salem's witches should be our primary target; they've got a long history in battling our kind.'

'Agreed. But don't forget about China. They've slaughtered us before the others knew how to make fire.'

'I made a deal with China. They'll stay out of it,' Vishna replied matter-of-factly. 'They're not too keen on Western Wizarding Societies and think this will benefit them.'

'Muhan's troups should be able to keep Africa in check,' Vlad added. 'If we've got it all done, we can always see what to do about Wizarding China.'

'I made a deal with them, Vlad.'

'I didn't. And even without you having to take over China, I'm quite surprised the rest of that area will only take you twelve hours. It makes me wonder just how many vampires you _do _have.'

'Enough to get that done in less than twelve hours.'

'You've been holding out on me,' Vlad replied, disgruntled. 'Sneaky bastard. We had a deal on the respective quota of our kind each of our clans were allowed to have.'

Vishna shrugged smugly. 'You were the one who insisted on not counting half-breeds. So, technically, I never broke our deal. My clan has the exact amount of full-blood vampires as is allowed by our treaty. Besides, this is a mute discussion for now.'

Vlad huffed. 'I'm not done discussing your deception, Vishna, but you're right. This will have to do for now. We'll start this campaign at sunset on your end of the globe.'

'Deal,' Vishna replied, shaking Vlad's outstretched hand.

'Tomorrow, this planet will be ours again,' Vlad said, satisfied.

Hermione swallowed. Darkness closed in on her. Not yet! She needed a date. They hadn't given her a date. When was this happening? Panicking, she tried to hold onto the images of the talking vampire princes.

Yet, she fell, fell into that bottomless abyss of nothingness.

Then, she was dancing, whirling away on the floor. People were laughing, screaming, crying, fighting, arguing, kissing, making love. Flashes were everywhere, deconstructing Time and Space. Hermione felt sick, beyond nauseated. It kept tumbling down and down and down again before her very eyes: St. Mungo's hospital. Structural integrity failures, bombs, storms, floods, fires, tornados, lightning strikes, curses, battles, a V2 direct hit in what should've been magically protected. She couldn't follow; her mind failed to comprehend. Over and over and over again, she was dancing, dancing with George in the makeshift ballroom right before disaster struck.

Now, there was nothing, a barren wasteland. Sand for as far as the eye could reach. Yet, somehow, she knew she was still there. Still in the centre of London that no longer existed. What was going on?

Hermione fell farther and farther into darkness until she stretched out her arms above her head and caressed the yew wand between her spidery fingers.

No! No, she couldn't be.

His thoughts were clear nevertheless. He'd instructed his Death Eaters to attack some stupid Muggle village in order for every Auror to be called in to protect their precious Muggles. There were so few Aurors left these days he was sure they'd be gone. He would not make that same mistake twice. There would be no one to protect the boy with despicable, ancient, love magic. As he approached the house, his snakelike face contorted in a sneer at identifying the worthless wards.

Some Aurors, his mind scolded. Did they really think this would stop him, the greatest wizard of all time?

_No, no, no, no_, Hermione yelled inside his mind. She didn't want to be here, didn't want to experience this version. She'd seen the horror at Godric's Hollow. Why did she have to bear witness again? From his perspective of all things?

The only ward worth mentioning had clearly been erected by the old coot, but it was like he'd not paid much attention either. They both knew he was destined to target the Potters after all. It seemed it had made the fool and the rest of his insipid Order as complacent as it could get. Well, today, Lord Voldemort would prevail. With a simple wave of his wand, he eradicated the protections around the house and moved on.

The door flew open, and a stunned Augusta Longbottom stared at him. 'B-but,' she stuttered, clutching to her wand, 'you're supposed to …'

His lipless mouth curved up. 'Go to the Potters and give up my and Hermione's life for the lot of you?' he snarled, whipping his wand. The Killing Curse struck his former classmate dead on, and he simply strolled past her. 'Guess again, Augusta.'

_No, not Neville! Not Neville! _Hermione yelled fruitlessly in his mind.

Loud crying filled his eardrums, and his eyes narrowed. He'd always hated the noise, despised how the little ones at the orphanage could scream their lungs out without consequences. This time, there would be one. He swung open the door to Neville Longbottom's bedroom. Weeping loudly about his loss, the tiny baby was trying to reach through the bars of his cot for a green toy frog that had fallen on the ground.

_No! _Hermione screamed desperately. _Take me, please take me instead. Just let me die, Tom!_

A green toy, how suiting, he thought sardonically. He raised his wand.

_Noooo!_

'Avada Kedavra!'

With delight, he saw the light disappear from the eyes and the baby's body fell down. Dead, just as its useless frog. Time had changed forever.

Everything spun out of control. The world was burning around her. Victory! She'd won.

Her brown, bushy hair whirled in the wind. People kneeled in fear before her, followers and enemies alike. Her power was overwhelming, intoxicating, forcing them into submission. Nobody could stop her now. Nobody.

She'd beaten them all.

With a cry, Hermione opened her eyes, flailing her arms around in distress. Terror and panic filled her as pain beyond belief burned in every single one of her muscles. She was in their house's bedroom again. Rose—who'd never been here before—was fast asleep beside her in the bed, not waking from her movements or distress-filled cries. Hermione saw Tom startle and jump out of the chair he'd fallen asleep in. Merlin, her head burned. She closed her eyes and dug her hands into her hair, needing this insane experience to stop. Why wasn't it stopping? She thrashed in the bed. Too much pain, too many memories. Someone had to stop this.

Long fingers curled around her wrists. Hermione froze upon feeling the contact.

'Don't move,' Tom said softly, pulling her arms back to her side as he sat down on the bed next to her waist. A tingle ran through her. She realised a spell had impacted her body, making it impossible for her to move her limbs anymore. 'You'll only make it worse by moving.'

He was acknowledging she was here! Touching her! Talking to her! Looking at her!

Cursing her!

_Why, shit, just my luck._

'You – you can see me?' she asked, fearful this was just another nightmare and she was imagining things.

A single eyebrow rose. 'You're kind of impossible to ignore,' he teased.

'What is the date? When am I?' she asked, looking around frantically and wincing from the pain that erupted inside.

Tom frowned. 'It's only been a couple of hours after you passed out upon your bold lie.' Here, he appraised her rather smugly. 'You need to stop moving, Hermione, please.' He leaned forward and cupped her face. 'Or I will have to immobilise your head, too. I was able to patch your critical, life-threatening wounds. But it's only that: a patch, not a full cure yet. You can easily rupture something again until the healing potion has taken.'

'Life-threatening wounds … when have I sustained those?' she asked, puzzled. 'Oh no, this is just another reality. I'm not really here. This isn't true. I'm imagining things. I should've known. Rose has never been here. My head … I'm going crazy. I—I—'

Tom's hand came to rest on her forehead. When she realised what he was going to do, she panicked even more.

'No, no, no please!' she yelled in a high-pitch, freezing him. 'Don't put me to sleep. I can't fall asleep. It'll happen again,' she said with a sob.

His eyes widened in confusion and worry when she began crying relentlessly, her body shaking.

'Hermione?'

He gently spoke in a voice one used to address skittish animals. Yet, she didn't seem to be hearing him. What the hell was going on with her? She wasn't prone to panic attacks. On the contrary, she was as collected as one could get under the most dire of circumstances. However, he needed her to calm down now before she would rupture a major blood vessel. Alas, for some reason, falling asleep seemed to terrorise her beyond imagination, which excluded that option for him. The risk of her terror sustaining itself in her unconscious state without his knowledge was too great a risk to take. He was not going to lose her. She had to calm down. He had to use their bond to his advantage, somehow. He stepped back contemplatively and forced himself to eradicate the worry inside of him before carefully levitating her and Rose to the side and crawling in bed himself. Cautiously, he lowered them next to him. Then, he wrapped his arms around Hermione protectively and pulled her on top of his chest, holding her tightly in his embrace whilst stroking with his hand through her hair soothingly.

'It's all right,' he said, hushing her in a low voice. 'I'm right here. You're safe. No one will hurt you. Nothing bad will happen. Just relax, Hermione. Feel my emotions. I know you can. Tune into them.'

He could sense her taking the lifeline he was throwing her, feel her body relax against his as she stopped crying and composed herself by tapping into his emotions.

'That's my girl,' he said proudly.

A part of her wanted to scold him for his smug self-importance, but she was too thankful for his interference and assistance to criticise his character now. With her cheek resting on his chest and their bond connecting them fully, she finally felt anchored to this reality.

They could always argue about the details later, she reckoned. Right now, she just wanted to hold onto this peaceful moment for as long as she could.

xxx

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**A/N: **I have no idea what went wrong with this doc but it wouldn't upload, so I had to use an old doc on ffnet and change the contents from that one to this in order to get this chapter posted. *keeps fingers crossed this will work*

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